


Starstruck

by Ayngelcat



Series: Red and Starscream [4]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, Inappropriate medical treatment, Infidelity, Jealousy, M/M, Medical Procedures, Memory Alteration, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence, Spark Sex, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 14:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1351015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayngelcat/pseuds/Ayngelcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a sequel to Understanding Red: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1000955 Reading that is not a pre-requisite, but it will make this story more enjoyable.</p><p>Story begins at the end of the G1 episode 'Auto-Beserk.' Red Alert and Starscream, having gotten up to more than merely chatting in that warehouse, now have to deal with the consequences of what they started.</p><p>*Warnings* Not much to warn of for the first couple of chapters, but this story will get NC17, and I anticipate plug&play, sticky and sparksex, and a few other similarly rated activities. More warnings will be added as necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red Alert: Prelude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Content warnings* in this chapter are for medical intervention, angst, fluff and talk of interfacing.

“You’re gonna be OK Red - and things are gonna be different now…”

Inferno’s voice. His faceplates are against mine, his oily scent comforting. It’s his arms I’m in, strong and reliable, a safe cage in the chaos.

“Better get him inside.” Prime’s voice. “I’m gonna check the perimeter. I would not put it past Megatron to double back.”

Other familiar voices. “Hold up! I’m comin’ with you…”

“…doubt those jets’ll be back…Smokey got ‘em a beauty… _all right!”_

“…but the Negavator…naaa - Wheeljack’s gonna rebuild it…thing’s overrated…main thing is, Red’s OK…”

The voices become a blurr. I online my optics and I’m looking into Inferno’s crystal blue ones. They're misty with emotion. “I’m sorry Red,” he’s saying. “I’m sorry, I’m _so_ sorry…”

But then he's blurring too, and the voices are fuzzy; echoes, that fade far away.

“Red?” I’m being shaken. “You with us – RED…?” But I’m drifting from them, drifting away…

There’s Autobots crowded around. I feel their concern, their distinctly _Autobotly_ care. “What's wrong? What happened? Thought he was OK…”

“Get Ratchet – now!” Panic in Inferno’s voice. Like I  never really heard before. And I want tell him it’s all right, not to worry, that I’m gonna be OK - but I just can’t seem to move. ”Red…” he shakes me. Red – wake up!”

Do I _want_ to wake up? It’s nice in Inferno’s arms. Online there’ll be questions, scrutiny, judgment - and I don’t want the questions. I don’t even want to think about what  happened. And I especially, truly, don’t want to think about _…_

 _Ah but you’ll have to_ _think about Starscream_ , says a small and most unwelcome voice in my head. _Yes Red – there’s no escape. You’ll have to…_

“What’s goin’ on here?” Ratchet’s voice thunders.

“It’s Red… online…he was…crashed again…”

“Well what d’you expect?” Ratchet roars. “ _And why in the name of Primus are you lot hangin’around?_ Get him to medbay. _Now!”_

I'm moving; propelled along in Inferno’s arms as many feet crunch on the gravel below.

 _It’s no good_ , says the voice. _You’re gonna have to face facts. He fragged you over. Yes – that’s right! Starscream fragged you over…’Cons are gonna laugh about the jerk you made of yourself, Red Alert..._

I _don’t_ want to online.

More forward motion; then footsteps on steel, echoes from the walls of the Ark entrance corridor. On…on… then the hiss of a door; energon and antiseptics. There’s gentle hands on my frame, and I’m being lowered.

“That’s it –  that’ll do fine...” Ratchet barks.

“Red…you’re gonna be all right.” Faceplates pressed against mine. Inferno’s...

“All right all right…stand back …Bumblebee, will you…Sideswipe - mind out…”

“ _In fact – you can all get outta here!”_ Ratchet loses it. "Yeah – that’s right - all of ya! ‘Cept Hoist that is; Hoist – come here…”

There’s mumblings and shuffling feet, as the door hisses open and shut. Lip components brush my cheek; a soft stroking hand. “I’ll be right outside Red…”

Inferno is gone. I’m alone; alone, at the mercy of the voice. It wastes no time. _Silly Red Alert._ _Did you really think you’d help_ Starscream _conquer the universe…?_

“Lucky -  he got off quite lightly..." Hoist’s voice. "Just needs a bit o'shutdown for self repairs. Energon pressure's low... "

Gentle hands on my arm; fingers between the panels. A sharp pain - then warmth spreads slowly up my arm. "infusion should perk him up - pressure’s better already.”

Ratchet grunts. "Gonna take a look just the same..."

Hands on my other wrist - Ratchet's. A sharp click; intrusion. _Medical probe_. Ratchet is in my systems…

 _He’s in my systems! Oh my…_ Says the voice. _Now what d'you think he's gonna find?…_

Panic grips me. Indeed, Primus knows what he'll find - and I don't mean injuries. Well he's _not_   getting into my mind.

Firewalls slam down. They leave no access, no path to my emotion centres, my thought processes, my recall banks. They’re shut away; all within is mine alone; my own private haven – or lonely hell.

"All right all right..." Ratchet grumbles. “Nothin’ wrong with his reflexes…”

A chuckle. Hoist’s. “Ratch - This _is_ _Red Alert!”_

Firewalls are a relief - but they don’t hide my inner bodily workings. The scan has reached my primary pleasure centres, the links with my hardline connectors.

Ratchet grunts. “Some o’these circuits in a bad way, Hoist. Well I’ll be...oh-oh...”

 _Oh-oh_ mocks the voice. _Here comes trouble..._

I’m tired of the voice; and I suddenly don't care if I can't hide the physical evidence. _It's only what's in my head that's for me and me alone,_ I snap. _And my spark..._

The voice laughs out loud. _It’s not like you think!_ I cry. _Starscream had feelings for me. We got close. We shared. We loved…_

 _Oh mech!_ _Shrieks the voice. Please...!_

But now there’s a warmth in my chest, and I’m glowing all over.  I know it’s not sensible – and I know it’s gonna come to Ratchet’s attention; but there’s nothing – absolutely nothing –I can do.

I'm right; Ratchet sighs. “Y’know - sometimes you just have a hunch you’re gonna see stuff no matter how much you dont wanna see it…”

“What?” asks Hoist.

“Don’t know that you wanna know.”

But I’m in haven. _"So pretty…”_ Starscream said. _“You’re lovely, Red Alert…you’re doing strange things to me  - but I like them…”_

 _I know he felt things,_ I tell the voice. _We were hardlined._ _“It’s not that I don’t want to…my coding makes it hard…”_ he said. _And he nearly cried…._

The voice erupts in fresh cackles. _“Who are you kidding, Red Alert? He used you. Fair and square. That’s it. Nothing more.…”_

“No!” I won’t hear it. I won’t, I won’t, _I won’t…_

Pain lingers, my chest an aching mass. Yet this is wonderful, strangely beautiful; and pleasurable sensations race around my circuits. _Oh you want what you had again_ , says the voice. _Oh yes – you really DO want that again…poor misguided fool…_

And this time I agree.

“Oh _my_ …” Ratchet’s stopped working. Another sigh. “Oh Red Alert – what _have_ you gotten into this time?” 

 _What have I_? And he doesn’t know the half of it.

“I’ve seen enough…” Ratchet’s pulling out. “Can't get at his mind, but I got a pretty darned good idea what's in it. Let’s sedate him – self repairs’ll do the rest. Nothin’ they can’t fix, except for – yeah well, never mind.”

“Is this - like Grapple?” Hoist sounds – excited.

“It’s a darned sight _worse!_ Think about it, Hoist! An’ darn it - I’m not a frickin’ spark counsellor!” He sighs. “Let’s leave him be for now. You got things to be getting’ on with? I sure have.”

Hoist lingers. He seems - curious. But then, they’re gone – or they’re not near me any more.

Soothing sensations bathe my circuits as medicine and self repairs get to work. It should be a relief – but the voice is back.

 _Such sentiment,_ it says. _Why bother?_ _Starscream’s through with you now. You screwed up. You let him down. The Autobots turned up – and he’s not leader of the Decepticons – in fact he might not even live. Last mech he’s gonna want around is_ _you, Red Alert_.

But that decides me. _I’ll make it up to him._ _He’ll give me a second chance – I know he will…_

I’m suddenly seized with purpose. _I’m going to help him! He's going to reach his potential! There’s good in him…I know there is…things are going to be different…_

There’s silence, then the voice laughs incredulously. _You are crazy, Red. You know that? You are just stark staring plain crazy…”_

 _I am crazy,_ I agree. _But I like it._

I relax at last; a pleasant slide into offlinedness and the promise of waking whole, repaired. Ready for my new challenge.

“Starscream coulda forced him?” Hoist’s voice floats across, a last distant echo.

Ratchet grunts. “No.” he says. “That’s the problem. He didn’t.”

I'm glad he got that right.


	2. Starscream - aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Immediately following the Nagavator debacle, Starscream's thoughts are far from clear where both Megatron and Red Alert are concerned...
> 
> *Warnings* in this chapter for long-term emotional and physical abuse, sexual references, sexual encounters, medical procedures, inappropriate medical behaviour and mild-moderate violence.

//He thinks of the Autobot.//

Soundwave’s intonation blended with the rush of air against metal frames as the Decepticons zoomed away from the Negavator debacle.

Below, the forested landscape stretched onward. The sea was not far off, a blue expanse flecked with white dots. Behind them Starscream followed in alt form, oblivious to the discussion.

Megatron thought of the telltale dints and scratches on the red and blue frame. _His_ blue and white frame.  //Did he and the Autobot…?//

//Unable to ascertain// Soundwave cut in. //Data incomplete. Possibility – _high._ //

Inside, Megatron grew white hot with anger. //That Autobot is _history_!// he seethed.

//Action unnecessary. Autobot was – terminated – in the explosion//

 _A pity._ //I’ll _damage_ Starscream then. How dare he even contemplate it with anyone else but me? Other than his wingmates. I understand that’s – necessary, up to a point. But otherwise he is mine, Soundwave. You hear me? Mine!//

The blue bot remained completely expressionless. //Damage inadvisable// he intoned, as he had on many previous occasions. // Starscream – valuable. His trine - necessary. And – _you_ need him, Megatron//

He did. That was the trouble. No matter how much he hated the Seeker at times, there was no escaping it. //Well what am I to do then, Soundwave. I ask you, _what am I to do?//_

//Advise – pleasantries. Recommend - seduction. You must re-establish his need for you.//

Megatron grunted. Starscream didn’t deserve his exquisite attentions. No – the traitor deserved to be thrown in a pit and left to rot, the ungrateful wretch that he was, running off with an Autobot this time. An Autobot! But Megatron knew that however much he hated it, Soundwave was right.

But then – a smile crept on to his features; this could be - enjoyable. By the time he’d finished, Starscream wouldn’t be going anywhere, and wouldn’t want to either.

//Very well. But I want that Autobot filth out of his head// he growled.

//As you command, Megatron//

 

Meanwhile, Starscream’s mind was far from inactive.  

_By the shards that shape the holy ruins of Simfur, am I for it now…_

_Well –_ not necessarily. _I just have to stick to my story - and that is, that I never at any time, thought or did anything other than for one purpose: to get the Negavator for the Decepticons. He can’t prove otherwise…_

Ahead, Megatron glinted, huge and silver in the brightness of the Earth sun. Soundwave travelled beside him, a stoic blue sentinel. They talked, the leader gesticulating now and then. Neither spoke to Starscream, who evidently was not worthy of their attentions.

The Seeker seethed in frustration. _Back to square one. Darn it I was so close! _Well never mind._ There’ll be another time. Would have been good with that Autobot though. Smart, he is. Pretty and smart. Pity he had to blow it…_

Though Red Alert hadn’t really. They could still have done it after the Autobots arrived, which clearly he had not wanted - not the way he had fired at them. But Megatron had to ruin everything. Of course.

Starscream thought of how the Autobot had come at him, the fists flying, the fury on the white faceplates. _If I hadn’t used that null ray, I would have had my vocal cords ripped out for sure. He was not only pretty, he could fight. But now he’s…_

It was with an uncomfortable ache in his spark that Starscream swept toward the base, aware too late that Soundwave probably knew everything. _  
_

_Why do I always forget that?_

 

“Hey!” As they approached the ocean base, Skywarp appeared alongside, transforming midair . “ _How was it?”_

Starscream glanced at Soundwave. //How was _what?//_

//Awww - come on Screamer - you know what I’m on about! Bit of grounder fun, y’know – stick the old pole in the hole...//

//I don’t know what you’re talking about!// Starscream snapped, annoyed by both Skywarp’s crudity and his insensitivity. _It's all right for him. Megatron thinks the sun bursts forth from his shiny black aft..._ Skywarp was always careless when it came to Soundwave. He had no need not to be, even when it came to his own 'liaisons' with Autobots, a state of affais he'd persuaded the leader to see as a 'tactical advantage.'

// _They’re_  good – ain’t they, them lambo types?// the other Seeker persisted now. //Pain in the aft though. All over you one minute, don’t wanna know the next. Confusing fraggers.  I ain’t talkin’ to Sideswipe no more. Coghead! You’ll find out...//

//I’ll find out nothing!// Starscream snapped. //It may have escaped your notice, Skywarp, but the Autobot to which you refer just ceased to exist.//

//Naaa!// Skywarp laughed as they swept into the entrance. //Bet he’s OK. They’re tough, them fraggers. You’d be amazed what Sides has walked out of at times, the sneaky cogsucking aft.//

Starscream had to admit – he felt slightly better at that news.  

 

An uncomfortable silence permeated the elevator as the Decepticons descended from the sea surface to their base. // _Hey…_ // Now Thundercracker was at his side.

//If you’re going to ask me _how it was_ then don’t bother// Starscream said tersely. //There’s nothing to tell.//

//Hey, simmer down. I only wanted to say – it might not be as bad as you think – with Megs.//

//And what makes you say that?//

//He was worried about you. He had Dirge out half the night scouring the ocean.//

//Fascinating. Seeing as how he left me on a mountain.//

//He thought you’d tried to get back and ditched. Till we saw Laserbeak’s footage, that is…//

Oh - so Megatron believed Starscream could not survive without him for _one night_. The arrogant aft.

//This morning he gave me quite a grilling,// Thundercracker went on. //It almost made me think he was – jealous.//

//Is that so, Thundercracker? Well I suggest you get your logic circuits seen to when we get back, because that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.//

 _Though was it?_ For now Starscream thought of it, Megatron did indeed grow strangely disturbed at any notion that he did not reign _numero uno_ in the Seeker’s life – so great was his ego, his need for control. And that fact? Well – it could prove rather _useful –_ not to mention entertaining.

 _Oh yes, could be very useful_. Perhaps today wouldn't be so bad after all.

 …………..

As they walked into in the control room, a collection of Constructicons rose to their feet, saluting. _The afts. They’re still trying to make up for that stupid power tower debacle..._

Starscream’s upper lip component curled at the sight of them; and at the self satisfied look of Thrust as the other coneheads fell into line beside him. Red optics glowed in the gloomy surroundings. Undoubtedly, everyone was dying to see what Starscream’s fate would be this time.

“Sir…?”

“Greetings, Scrapper…” Megatron ignored the others. “Is all in order? Where is Hook?”

“In the medbay, Megatron – awaiting your instructions. It is as you commanded, my Lord.”

Starscream rolled his optics. _I am_ so _out of here,_ thought. _Do I not have at least one personal code to my quarters. I will lock myself in; and the hell with all of them. I am done with listening to this drivel._

But Soundwave’s optics were upon him; and so - unfortunately - were Megatron’s. “Starscream,” the leader glinted, huge and intimidating; though his tone was perhaps more gentle than the Seeker might have expected. “You are to report to medbay.”

There was silence. The others looked on with interest, as though waiting for a crucial scene in a holomovie.

“And why must I do this, oh mighty one?” It was automatic, a reaction spawned from eons of opposing Megatron as a matter of course. _Might as well give them a show..._

But Megatron was – smiling; almost _nicely._ It didn’t look like one of his _look ultra benevolent, before I give you a backhander_ efforts. “The events of the last day must have been – stressful – for you, Starscream…” he tilted his head to one side. “I think we need _a professional_ to check you out, do we not?”

Starscream didn’t move. He folded his arms _._ “I’m tired, as it happens. I can see Hook later. Now if you don’t mind…”

But at that, the smile vanished. “Thrust, Ramjet!” Megatron snapped. “Perhaps you might like to _assist_   Starscream to medbay? He seems to have a _problem_ with propelling himself in that direction...”

“All right, all right…” Starscream stared down the smirking others, then glared at the coneheads. “I’ll get myself there, thank you!”

He felt the old prickle of deep-seated anxiety. Had he really thought something had changed?

…………

“Well now – everything seems to be in order here…” Hook smiled lecherously as his hands roved over Starscream’s panels in an unnecessarily sensuous way.

Notorious for his ‘berthside attentions,’ there were some, Starscream knew, who would rather enjoy Hook’s ministrations. He didn’t, however – and never had. “How much longer are you going to take?” he snapped.

The Constructicon chuckled unpleasantly. Tingles erupted in various places as an internal probe simultaneously scanned Starscream’s systems. “As long as it takes me to complete my – assessment.”

“And what, precisely, are you assessing?”  

“Your vital functions, of course. Oh – now _that’s_ interesting…” Starscream felt, with annoyance, his interface systems tweaked. He winced. Those had, after all, had rather a lot of exercise of late. They were a little tender.

The medic was visibly excited. _The aft._ A green hand wandered on to Starscream’s codpiece. Starscream slapped it away. “ _That_ doesn’t need assessing. And neither does the rest.”

“I am a medic. I have to cover all eventualities.”  

“You’ll be a _damaged_ medic if you cover _that_ one again. Have you any idea how much Megatron considers that his property?” 

But Hook only smiled, calculatingly. “Indeed, which is why I promised I’d be - _thorough_ …” Taking Starscream’s wrist, he extracted the medical assessment cable. “I’d say Megatron would be _most_ interested in some aspects of your anatomy; ones that according to my chronometric check, were active when you were in his absence.”

 _Darn it, he knows…_ a prickle of unease went through Starscream. Hook was well capable of causing trouble – and had on many occasions. Yet a triumphant feeling arose within Starscream, as he thought of what Thundercracker had said. So what if Megatron knew? It would serve the nosy slagger right.

In fact, now Starscream got it. This whole thing was to _solely_ establish whether he and the Autobot had _done anything_. Well how delightfully paranoid - that Megatron was so upset at the notion of him having someone else as to go to these lengths. This was even better than Starscream had thought.

At that moment, there came a noise from outside. Hook looked across. The door opened. Grunts and clanks sounded as Scavenger attempted to negotiate the doorway with a machine in tow. Starscream saw cables, a large monitor screen – and something that looked like a head contraption.

“What’s that?” he snapped as Hook went to assist his comrade, smiling widely as Scavenger wheeled it over.

“Lord Megatron wants nothing to remain that might contaminate your ability to function as a Decepticon. This is a neuro-eliminator. From my findings of your bodily state, I am to erase anything from your mind that might be – linked to that state of affairs.” He smiled, nastily. “Unusually generous of our Lord under the circumstances; do you not think?”

Starscream winced as his spark gave a sudden and unexpected spasm. At the same time, memories flooded his processor, uncomfortable in their intensity.

… _smooth white and red panels…gentle hands and intricate systems…erotic energy and uninhibited passion…_

_“You are so nice Starscream… you are amazing…you are everything I want…I can’t wait for us to be partners…”_

_And he had felt so good, Red Alert had; and he was so full of sweet thoughts and desire; of adulation and admiration - all for Starscream. Everything I need…_ _Yet_ if Starscream understood correctly, he would never think of that again. _Red’s dead - and I won’t even remember…_

Scavenger was removing the head contraption form the machine. “Would you mind lowering your helm so I can fit this?” he asked. Hook grinned beside him.

And it was then that an image of the leader arose in Starscream’s mind, smiling in knowing satisfaction. _I will rule your life for you, Starscream. You will do as I say, act as I wish – even what is in your head shall be at my command and whim. This is how it is. This is how it will always be. This way you will live – so do not even think that it might be otherwise…_

And it was hardly first ever epiphany, but not for a very long time had Starscream seen it so plainly – and _never_ had he resented it so much.

Something snapped. A flurry of metal and wings, and the Seeker was on his feet. Scavenger yelped as Starscream grabbed him, wrenching his arm and twisting it behind his back. A shrill wail issued from the Constructicon as Starscream stood heavily on his tail.

“Shut up!” Starscream could feel the terror in the Constructicon as the barrel of his null ray canon pressed against the green helm. _Good._ He glared at Hook, then jerked his head at the machine. “You get that thing away from me right now, or you know what I’ll do.”

Hook folded his arms. “Put him down, Starscream,” he said quietly. “You _know_ I’ll only stick him back together.”

“Not if his _head_ no longer exists.”

“Hook...” Scavenger struggled. Starscream tightened his grip.

Hook chuckled unpleasantly. “Methinks I was right - I thought that might have been _spark_ activity I detected there. Dear, dear – how very un-Decepticon - you’d hardly want _that_ bandied around, now would you? So do let him go; besides – the rest of our team is on its way.”

Starscream gritted his denta; yet even as he controlled the urge to blast Scavenger and the aft of a medic right into oblivion, another thought from the night before came to him - and with it an idea.

Now it was his turn to chuckle conspiratorily. “Well then you’d better stop them,” he said. “Because the point is...” he tightened his grip again, “I’m not the only one with the occasional partiality for a piece of Autobot am I? But at least I don’t _go visiting them at the Ark.”_

The smile vanished from Hook’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Ah, but I think you do! You forget who the subject matter of my ‘un-Decepticonly behaviour’ last night _was._ I saw some very useful footage – which I’ve already downloaded _elsewhere._ What _would_ Megatron say of he thought that Scrapper and the Autobot Grapple…”

“That’s Scrapper’s business,” Hook was clearly flustered. “It has nothing to do with Scavenger or I…”

“Oh but it does, Hook! You forget, I understand gestalts.  You knew very well what he was up to, not to mention the _unarguable security risk_ and its _treasonable implications_?”

Hook opened his mouth. He closed it again. “All right. What do you want?" he swallowed, hard. "At least let Scavenger go – or I’ll never stop the others. But what am I supposed to tell Megatron?”

“Better,” Lowering the canon, Starscream released his grip. Whimpering, Scavenger slid to the floor.

“You can save your own frame if you tell Megatron you found nothing to erase. _I_ shall decide what he needs to know _when I see fit._ In the meantime - you keep my secret. I’ll keep yours.”

Hook looked furious. But he knew when he was beaten. Primus knew, the Constructicons had worked hard of late to re-establish their position. Although Megatron was known to be tolerant of Autobot liaisons in some instances, no boat-rocking possibilities could be risked. “Very well. But I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for Scrapper.”

“Is that so?” Starscream chuckled. “Such sentiment! How very _un_ -Decepticon, Hook.”

…………….

_Now, I really need that rest…_

But Soundwave was waiting outside the medbay, along with the rest of the Constructicon contingent. _Primus almighty._ Was there no peace?

Scrapper and his cohorts looked Scavenger over, and a couple of them clenched their fists. But Hook merely smiled tersely at the blue telepath. He handed Soundwave a chip. “My report...”

Soundwave nodded. The Constructicons glowered, knowing already what had been amiss. Protective green arms went around Scavenger; but then Hook was ushering them away. Scavenger  looked at the floor as he passed, metal scraping as his tail dragged on the ground.

“Well?” Starscream regarded the telepath impatiently.

“Megatron requests your presence.”

“That’s unfortunate. You see Soundwave, as I’ve been trying to say since we got back, I’ve had a very long day and I…”

“Starscream?” Well what did you know? It was _the Lord_ himself, his _great silverness_ once more pervading all. “If I may…” he held out his hand. Soundwave handed over the chip.

Opening an arm compartment, Megatron slid the chip inside. A smile slid slowly over his faceplates. “Thank you, Soundwave. There is no need for you to remain. Starscream will be joining me in my quarters.” The smile spoke of conquer, triumph and his second in command being once more unequivocally his.

Starscream boiled inside. Yet apprehension arose also, for it occurred to him that there was still the Negavator; and with losing the sway he’d had from Megatron’s jealousy…

This was Megatron, after all.

 _Stick to the story,_ he reminded himself. _Apologize. Assure him of loyalty and lessons leaned. Let him think he’s Master of the Universe – and me. Let the dust settle – there’ll be a chance to frag him up again…_

Maybe. The sooner they got this part over with, the better.

 ………..

With them alone, at least this wouldn’t be publicly humiliating...

Nevertheless, Starscream felt the old unease as the door closed behind them.

_He has that look. As of old, it sends an icy tremor through my circuits, that settles in the base of my core._

_I hate that it does that. I hate even more that I’m seized with the urge to please him, to do whatever it takes to make things not like that, and all right. I’m ashamed by the prospect of doing that, but I know what will happen if I don’t._

_Stick to the story._ “Megatron…” Starscream began. “About the Negavator. I really was going to…”

But Megatron hushed him, putting a finger to his lips. “Quiet, Starscream.”

_He’s looking at me, his optics glowing, bright red coals in the room’s thin light. And to my amazement, I can’t see any anger. I can see - desire. Desire for me._

How Starscream hated the relief that flooded his systems; even more so the fact that now Megatron was looking at him like that, things were happening to his own interface relays.

_…that eons of conditioning has left me so irrevocably weak, so undeniably helpless._

Yet that had always been the effect Megatron had. After six or so million years of complete dysfunction, hatred and  an internal war that threatened at times threatened the Decepticons more than the Autobots, this one thing still brought them together.

Megatron laid a finger on Starscream’s cheek. Starscream could feel his energy field pulsing wildly, his frame heating. Intakes rasped, thickly, as Megatron drew Starscream to him. And Starscream, betrayed by his own body and the need for self preservation, melted into him, meeting his hungry kiss with a passionate one of his own.

 _I’ll be disappointed by this, I know. And with myself…_ Starscream always was. But for now, this was so much better than Megatron’s wrath. He could pretend it was going to be good, that there’d be no other repercussions; could almost truly enjoy it…

The kiss went on, Megatron’s lust surging like a powerful tide. Megatron broke to stare him. “I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured, “but I’ve been thinking too , Starscream. I’ve been – unreasonable. The thought of you with another…”

And to Starscream’s astonishment, Megatron was suddenly trembling. Well I’ll be darned, was he really that upset – just at the idea…?

Yet his wariness returned. “I failed you, Megatron. I never got the Negavator. For that I am truly sorry.”

Megatron bent to kiss Starscream's neck, contolling his bodily functions with visible effort. His mouth lingered on Starscream’s neck cords, his breath ragged on the underlying circuitry. _“What you did today, Starscream, you tried hard for the Decepticons. And that was – very valiant.”_

The leader regarded him. He smiled. A thin silver finger ran down Starscream’s cheek. “What happened was hardly your fault, now was it? You weren’t to now that your null ray would stabilize that glitching Autobot and he would attack us? _Now were you?”_

Starscream could barely hide his incredulity. “No…why, no Megatron. Not at all.”

“Well then…” taking Starscream’s hand, Megatron led him to his ample berth which, Starscream saw, had been attractively decked out with black mesh spacecovers, as though in anticipation of something special. A silver decanter and two glasses sat on a table beside it.

Starscream sat down. A pleasant aroma arose as Megatron poured steaming violet coloured liquid into the glasses. He handed one to Starscream. “A special from Mixmaster,” he raised his own glass. “I have been saving it especially - there seems to be no better an occasion."

Starscream took a sip. The concoction was sweet, with the obvious loading of concentrated energy. “I’m happy that you know where your loyalties lie, Starscream,” Megatron was beside him, gently stroking his hand. “This should assist us to cement _our_ partnership _even more_ firmly.”

 _That word._ Starscream’s spark jarred again. _No,_ he reminded himself. _Don’t go there._ _You’ve gotten away with a pitload - don’t lose it now_ …

“That Autobot – there was never going to be anything,” he muttered. “Of course nothing happened. I just – roughed him up a bit.”

“Of course you did, Starscream? With a puny Autobot, what else would you have done?”

“Nothing…” yet Starscream had still one last glimpse of the image of Red Alert's face, of his devotion, his adoration…

It passed – thankfully. Red was gone, swept away - for Megatron was kissing him again, deeply and desperately. As the aphrodisiac affects of Mixmaster’s mix took hold, hands caressed him, erogenous zones and sensitive seams long used to such stimulation erupting at their touch. Starscream leaned into him, wanting this, needing this; because _hell, this was where it was at…_

Steam was rising, a pungeant cloud. Starscream lay back, allowing the leader to slide on to him, to take him, to possess him absolutely...

And then all was simply squealing hot metal and pulsing energy and lust, and exquisite promise; a sea of relief and familiarity, into which Starscream - for now - sank gladly.


	3. Red Alert: Suppression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whilst Red Alert is still unconscious, Ratchet makes a decision. Red later awakens rather pleasantly, if mistakenly, but is deluged by confused feelings as he tries to get back to work. 
> 
> *Chapter Warnings* Rating for this chapter goes up to NC17, and it has explicit sticky sex (Red/Inferno) and voyeurism (Ratchet/Hoist), also memory manipulation/alteration.

“Are you sure?” Optimus Prime looked at Ratchet and Hoist, who nodded.

“So the chances of _something_ _more_ with Starscream are high?”

“I’d say so yeah.” Ratchet’s voice was a growl. “When I tampered with – certain parts - of Red, he barred access to recent memory files and his spark darned near went into overdrive.”

Prime sighed. “I might have guessed. Starscream can be – persuasive. It does not surprise me that you report no forced entry, especially with Red in the state he was in, but…”

He regarded them sternly. “It is clear Starscream orchestrated the situation for his own ends. I have no doubt he meant to seize the Negavator. Megatron will take action accordingly…” his expression was unreadable for a moment. “We cannot risk this happening again," he concluded.

“We could erase any recently stored files?” Hoist suggested. “We don’t need to know what’s in them. Decepticons would do that. In fact Hook …”

“But we are _not_ Decepticons,” Prime looked at him sharply. “It is unethical to remove a mech’s memories. However inappropriate, they are part of what he is. That sort of practice – it’s why some of the Decepticons have serious psychological problems. There must be another way.”

There was silence. Ratchet cleared his throat. “What I can do, Prime, is close off certain links between the files he closed access to and his consciousness and his spark. It’s a kind of memory loss. He might feel certain things – but won’t know the cause. It would be – a temporary measure.”

“Indeed,” Hoist agreed. “Later when he’s more stable, we can re-establish the links. He can have counseling, and put things in perspective; learn to deal with what happened - and move on.”

Optimus Prime looked a little doubtful. This was, after all, Red Alert. But he nodded. “So – this would reduce the chance of - some _interfactional infatuation?”_  .

“Exactly.” Said Ratchet and Hoist together.

But then, Ratchet frowned. “Of course, we can’t guarantee that certain things won’t set up new pathways. I mean – if he sees Starscream…”

“In that case we must make sure that he does _not_ see Starscream,” Prime said resolutely. “Or other Decepticons, or anything else that could reveal the content of his memories. We keep him here, not out there fighting – and he does his job, nothing else.”

“Primus knows…” he sighed. “Red’s a good deal better at the best of times when he’s just doing his job.”

Ratchet nodded. “He’s still sedated. I’ll organize it…” but now Hoist looked troubled.

“There’s one other problem too,” he said. “There’s a rumour circulating that what happened to Red was – well – not consensual. Some of our mechs are talking revenge.”

“Well that ain’t so bad is it?” Ratchet looked almost cheerful. “I mean – manipulation, rape…it’s a fine line…”

“A line nevertheless, Ratchet,” Prime looked stern again. “And one that as Autobots we are also bound to respect.”

But he thought for a moment. “I agree, however, that Starscream acted inappropriately. I won’t deter our mechs from demonstrating their disapproval, provided they maintain their main purpose as Autobot soldiers and providing nothing is said to Red Alert. Do I make myself clear?”

Hoist nodded. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“And I’ll do the mind stuff,” Ratchet said. “While Red’s still sedated. Then he can be outta my medbay – no doubt I’ll be needing it soon.”

……………….

_Two days later…_

In the dream, his head is between my legs, and my intakes hiss hungrily as his firm hands force my thighs apart, He smells of grease and fuel and other things fast and powerful. I want to grab his helm and run my fingers down the dark metal grooves, massage in time to his strokes – but I can’t. My hands are tied. Literally…

His glossa licks hungrily at my open valve with a hectic urgency. Nobody can do that like him - the way he swirls around, flicking at the sensitive nodes in the anterior rim. Already, my lower regions are on fire. Already I’m half way to overload; and he’s only just begun.

Swathes of heat rush through as it goes on - and on. I sigh, restlessly writhing, aching for him in me, as my own spike strains upward, craving release. I want to seize it, jerk off hard, unleash in a frenzied fountain over us both. But again - I can’t.

He moves. His intakes are hot and ragged, and he knows what I must have, and he needs it too. Now lips close around my spike and there’s fingers in my valve, and its a haven. _Oh yeah_ \- I hear myself moan, and I push my hips up, thrusting into his mouth, forcing his fingers deep inside, forcing  him further in me, so close, _so close…._

His fingers are deep. They spread me, exploring, sending ripples up the length of my valve that scintillate over my ceiling node; it opens and closes like an Earth bud flower. And all the while his lips work my spike, sucking, licking, bringing me close - yet not quite all the way.

My charge is soaring, gathering me as though into a whirling pleasure dome with the peak of ecstasy just out of reach. It’s glorious; but I’m in hell. I want to unload so badly, to get to the top, that I can hardly stand it.  He must keep doing this, he _must_ not stop. I thrash and strain at the restraints, please let me…please, please _please…”_

It’s going to happen – my spike is going to explode. Pre-overload ripples course its length as my valve spews fluid around his fingers. I can stand it no more! “ _PLEASE…_ ” I scream. “I _have_ to finish…”

But no – he must torture me. He takes his fingers from my valve and the mouth on my spike departs, leaving an agonized, tormented void. I cannot believe it. I thrash; I scream. “You sparkless, worthless, _glitch.”_ I yell. _“How can you do this?”_

He knows I don’t mean this; would never mean it of him. He laughs. “My apologies,” he whispers. “It’s just that - I thought you wanted me to fuck you?”  

Oh Primus, I never wanted anything so much in my life. “Yes…” my voice is a strangled whelp. “Yes I do, yes! I’m sorry OK – just DO IT!”

He moves. I feel him over me – tantalizingly close and yet eons away. I want to see him yet I can’t, don’t; he’s a hidden pleasure in the darkness.

His intakes rasp hoarsely as he removes the restraints with his denta, one by one. He pins my hands down hard as I feel the force of his magnificent form, his lust. He’s heaving over me, and now I know how much he wants this; he could no more stop as one could halt lava rushing from a volcano.

His spike is against my valve, huge and throbbing. He slides sit in, flowing like silk, far, far into my depths. I cry and writhe and push against his rigid length.

He’s there. He pauses. The universe seethes, a brief moment of ecstatic agony; then he’s away,driving deep, pounding, hard again and again and again, and my valve’s spewing fluid like a leaking piston and my spike tip’s raw against his hot metal and _oh mech, the pleasure, the pain…_

It courses through me in electric waves, and this isn’t going to last long…

My body starts to shudder – I’m just about there. I jerk beneath his outstretched form, my heels thudding on the concrete floor. “Oh yeah,” he says, taking me faster, more frenetically. “That’s it…that’s my Red…that’s it, that’s it, _that’s it…”_ And I know he can’t wait either.

Harder, deeper he goes. Vapours swill in the dark air as his breath comes ragged and hot, his spike his huge in me, his hands crushing mine. “Let yourself go, Red,” he rasps, “let me fuck you; oh yeah, _oh yeah, oh…”_

And I couldn’t not do even that if I tried…

He's there. He shakes in mighty thrusts, bellowing as he spills into me.  And then I’m there too, overloading like mad, screaming out as I hit the crest; and then spasms take me, harsh pleasure clamping like a vice. I scream in time, hearing the force of his own release, like a deafening resonance in a cave.

I collapse back. He falls on me, panting, whimpering; and we neither of us can do anything at all but indulge in the sheer ecstasy of the moment.

It’s wonderful and its beautiful, and I’m _home._ “You’re amazing, I murmur. “You’re amazing, you’re amazing, _you’re amazing_ …” and I’m in utopia, floating in a sea of bliss and satiation.

Time ticks by. His weight if off me. He’s over me. “Red,” he’s saying. “Red – you OK? Sorry – I just – I got a bit carried away…”

Is he kidding? I couldn’t care _less!_ I online my optics, wanting to tell him, to hug him – to say he can do that whenever and how ever often he likes…

But I’m startled. This is – odd; for bright blue optics blaze into mine. I squint. What is this? His shape is wrong. Those optics should be…

“Red Alert,” he murmurs. “That was – sensational.”

"Inferno? Inferno, its – it’s _you…”_

A little of the blueness goes out of his optics. “Who did you think it was?”

Indeed, a very good question. Who _did_ I think it was?

…………………………

Primus only knows what Ratchet gives me, but it sure knocks me out. When I wake up, and the room swims into view, I’m not in the medbay. I’m in Inferno’s quarters. And I’m in his berth.

I sit up. What happened? I know, of course, that Inferno rescued me – saved me from the Negavator. It exploded, and everything went dark; then he was carrying me and everything was back online - and then not. And that was all after…

I try to recall. It’s hazy before that.  I vaguely recall what happened. I tried to get the Negavator – needed to save it. But the Cons arrived and tried to get it, and then the Autobots were there, and the Cons’ efforts came to nothing.

I also know this is _not_ the whole picture.

It’s puzzling. _All OK,_ my systems information notifier tells me. And it is: even my nervous system is as finely tuned as I like it. I can see, hear and sense with all the acuteness that reassures me that my awareness will keep everyone safe. It’s just that…

My thoughts drift again. The Negavator - I had somebody with me. Strange. Nice. There’s a tingling in my relays, a soft feeling in my spark. _Pleasant,_ one part of the experience was –   

But the memory is gone almost as soon as I’ve thought it.

Yet something lingers, like a gas cloud after an explosion. Last night, when Inferno and I…

 _Did we?_   Was that Inferno? Of course it was Inferno! And it was good, too.

Yet there’s something not right about it. Did it even happen? Did it…

Oh it’s all too confusing! I check my chronometer – at least that’s straightforward. Two days, I’ve been out of it.

Two days! I’m appalled. One thing’s certain. I can’t hang around here.

I scramble off the berth. I have to get out of here - anything could have happened! What of my systems, my monitors, my cameras? Has anything even been backed up?

There is no time for speculation. The Ark needs me. The Autobots need me. Our very existence depends on it…

But the door opens before I even get there. “Red!” Inferno's grin is as wide as the Oregon desert.

He holds out his arms - and I know I’m meant to fall into them. But I don’t. “Inferno…” I begin, moving back.

He laughs. “Now I know what you’re thinking – _why am I in here?_   I’ll tell you. Ratch wanted medbay. I wanted you...” he opens his arms. “Five star accommodation at your service!”

In the past, this would have pleased me greatly. As would him now coming towards me, as happy as a Scraplet in a spare parts shed. But I push him away. “I have to go,” I say.

“Say - not so fast, Red!" The lustre disappears from his expression; a fire suddenly  dampened. "Don't you think you oughtta take it easy? Prime’s given us some time – a little vacation.”

His face lights up again. “Thought we could head some place nice. We can hang out; sit and watch the sunset – just you and me.”

I don’t want a vacation. I don’t want to look at sunsets – I want to _sort out my security systems._ More than that, I want to be alone.

“Have you taken leave of his senses?” I cry. “Have you forgotten how much there is to DO? Even before recent events, I hardly got to start the perimeter trip system yet, Inferno.”

“The hell with the perimeter!” His optics flash, and there's a hint of something there that I'm not quite sure I like; but then he sighs, and opens his arms. “Hey Red - come on...you nearly _died_ , Red …”

I feel guilty. Whatever else happened, Inferno saved me. He does deserve something - but I don’t know if I can give it; and I don’t know why. It only accentuates the need to be alone. I shake my head.

He’s smiling again – but there’s an unspoken edge. He shrugs, his arms falling to his sides. “You gotta recover,” he says. “Let me take care of you…”

“I can’t.” I look him straight in the optics. “Look how easily the Cons accessed the Negavator? If I had only...” _  
_

His surprise is palpable. “So you remember that? I didn’t know…” and then the dark look returns - so much so that it takes me by surprise, and if it was anyone but Inferno I might actually be scared. “I don’t think we should talk about the Negavator,” he growls. “Ever!” 

I turn away. I’m - confused. Of course we’ll have to talk about the thing! There’ll be another, won’t there? And I’ll have to secure it…

He’s behind me. Hands settle on my shoulders. His touch is gentle enough. “I’m sorry Red…” he squeezes softly, “Guess I’m still just reacting. I went through my own hell, you know…”

His intakes are hot on my neck. His arms slide around me, his mouth on my helm. He shivers, trembling; and I know that he wants more than to just hold me.

“Can’t stop thinking about the night you came out of medbay …” he whispers. “You wanted it so much.”

I did. I remember well. And how easy now would it be to succumb now? To lose myself in sensation and overloads?  "That was good," I mutter. "But… "

"What?"

I don’t know _what._ I just know what I have to do.

“Need to get stuff done, “ I say, brushing him away. “I’m sorry, Inferno. I’ll catch up with you later.”

………..

It’s good to be alone and headed to my office. But I don’t make it. “Prime wants to see you…”

It’s Prowl. His deadpan face conveys no emotion, no opinion one way or the other as to what he thinks of Optimus wanting to see me. It’s just a statement of fact.

“I need to check my office…”

“You can do that - after.”

You don’t argue with Prowl.”

…………

I sense in Optimus Prime that same undertone as the day I – flipped out.

We were in that bunker – where the Negavator was.  I remember this well – just as I remember it blowing up - it's just the bit in between that seems a problem. Thinking of _before,_ it occurs that I had a point. Inferno shouldn’t have left me.

No - he shouldn't! I don’t believe I was as glitched as they made out. Inferno was unreasonable. No matter how nice he is now.

Prime beams “Red Alert! How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“Ratchet tells me you’re clear for duty?”

“So I gather, yes.”

“Good...”

“My equilibrium relays are spot on now,” I add.  “And my logic circuits. There will be no repetition of what happened before the Negavator.”

“Hmmnnn…” Prime frowns. Something seems to be troubling him. “Has Ratchet spoken to you?”

“No. Inferno took me to his quarters.”

“I see…” he looks awkward.

It passes. “Well there shouldn’t indeed be anything like – before. You just make sure that if you or Inferno have any concerns – any at all – you see Ratchet again. Understand?”

“Of course.” Why Inferno? That’s slightly annoying. I’m in charge of how I feel. Not him.

“Or Smokescreen. He’s – good. When it comes to talking. About - _things."_

Now paranoia definitely stirs – and I don’t think that’s without reason. _Smokescreen?_ Everyone knows he has ‘little chats’ with mechs and then reports back to Prime.

But I manage to smile. “No problem,” I say brightly.  

“Good.”

He regards me kindly. I relax. It’s OK - whatever’s in his mind, he has my best interests at spark. This is the Autobot way. This is why I, Red Alert, am proud to be an Autobot.

He’s smiling. “Now Red, no fighting Decepticons – for now. If you want to go somewhere close by with Inferno that’s fine, but otherwise you stay right here in the Ark.”

Inferno again. He’s now my chaperone? I know I’ve whined in the past about the lack of attention he pays me, but…

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say. “I’ve got so much to do here, Prime, that I don’t know where to start.”

………….

I must get to my control room. I walk swiftly, offering only brief acknowledgement to those I pass. It’s not just that I need to get to my sanctuary. I don’t like how they look at me. It’s like I’m to be pitied, as though they _know_ something.  Whatever it is, _I_ don’t want to know.

I especially don’t want to run into Inferno again. It’s like that’s worst of all. But now, I’m at my control room, my hidey hole; my solitary haven. With a quick look to check I’m alone, I slip in and shut the door.

It’s quiet inside. Everything is as I left it, before I had to go to that bunker. Even my half drunk midgrade is still in its cup, a slight scum on the surface. But this does not surprise me – for this is my domain. _Nobody_ interferes with Red Alert’s systems.

First things first. I’m seized with a sense of duty. This is good. I set myself to work.

According to the master monitor, the warning systems are all armed, the cameras functional. I decide to check them one by one...

I view the images. Main entrance: intact. Side entrances: no problem. Emergency equipment station - as it should be. Master control room, operations, communications: all intact. Teletraan One hums away, paying no heed to Spike and Bumblebee as they chatter in front of the console.

I hone in to the chatter. It’s not about me. Some of the Autobots are going to New York. The Decepticons are building something there…

“Sure gonna be a big fight,” Bee says. “Hound and Mirage have already left. Rest are on standby – ‘cept Jazz, who’s staying here in charge. Seems the ‘Cons are tryina build a new Cybertron…”

I’m a bit miffed that Prime didn’t tell me this; but curiously, I’m wondering more how the Decepticon efforts will look. A new _Cybertron?_ That sounds – interesting. I wonder which Decepticons will…

 _What am I doing, wondering anything?_ It’s not my concern. The Cons won’t succeed – and I’m not going. I heard Prime. I’m staying here.

I move on. There’s the fuel preparation area; the canteen, refueling mess, humans’ office and their ‘kitchen’ are all without concerns.

Finally, there's Medbay - and Ratchet cleaning instruments; I watch as Hoist comes up behind him….

Hoist’s hands are on Ratchet’s hip panels. “Hey!" he says. "Everyone's about to leave; was gonna wait till they'd gone, but – you know…”

Ratchet stops cleaning. He places his hands on the bench. He doesn’t speak; but his aft undulates sensuously and he widens his stance. I can tell from the grunting sounds he makes that this feels good.

Hoist’s hands slide knowingly to the backs of his thighs. “Cos I reckon right now will do fine...”

Ratchet shivers as one hand slips between his legs. He moans, and Hoist leans against him, arms closing tightly around his waist.

They are both attractive mechs. My relays tingle – more than a little; but I do not stay to watch. My confidentiality controls forbid my deriving pleasure from activities on camera, or from divulging details. Many would linger – but I cannot break protocol. This is just one very good reason why I am security chief.

I move instead to the rec room, where a collection of mechs are in view – evidently waiting for New York. There’s the usual ‘atmosphere.’  They chat, play cards, and have mock spars. The muffled conversation is no doubt that common for before a sortie. They’re going to crack armour and bust afts, split helms and waste Decepticons right, left and centre…

Except I can’t hear them hardly at all. The volume is turned down.

I try to turn it up – and can’t. What is this? It doesn't make sense. Somebody must have tampered! That fills me with instant annoyance. Wait till I see Prime…

In the meantime, it’s useful that I can lipread. Yes, I have many surveillance techniques. It is why I am good at my job.

“Gonna do the thing, Sides?” Sunstreaker, conveniently, is right in front of the camera.

“Yeah. You bet I am!” So, fortuitously, is his brother. “Munt of a Seeker’s got it coming. I’m gonna enjoy every minute…”   

“Sides – take it easy. This is _Starscream_ you’re talking about. Not Skywarp…”

Sideswipe laughs. “Reckon Skywarp gave me plenty of practice. Besides which – gotta make this one count. It’s for Inferno.”

I can see others laughing, or grinning their approval. Then Prowl’s in the doorway and the smiles disappear. I can tell that the talk is more subdued as they exit to follow him up the corridor.

Unease prickles through my circuits. _What_ was that about?

I track them to the departure bay. It’s not that I need to. I already checked the bay; it’s a routine roll out. But I need to see if this subject’s mentioned again.

It isn’t. They’re transformed, and off almost straight away. Rolling in pairs, they cross the tarmac to Skyfire, who waits outside, sitting at the edge of his runway.

Optimus Prime goes last. He gives Jazz final instructions as Skyfire’s engines drown out their words; then his large bulk is rolling out there too.

I watch Skyfire taxi away, thinking on what was said. What am I doing, worrying?  Sideswipe’s always fighting Seekers. He always survives – and so do they. It’s a game they play – him and Skywarp - in between fragging. Except that this time it won’t be Skywarp – and it didn’t sound like there’d be any fragging…

_Why am I thinking about this again?_

I get back to my screen. I drop a level, going via the lift shaft which is clear. Officers quarters and mess are all intact, the corridor empty.  I reach Prime’s office – and there’s Jazz, talking to Inferno.

I groan, inwardly. It must be about our ‘time together.’ _Or is it?_ Again, I turn up the volume. I can’t hear what they say either! _What_ is the matter with my acoustics? This simply will not do.

Inferno looks angry. He has that dark look; he balls his hand to a fist and smacks it into the palm of his other hand.

Jazz is nodding. “Sideswipe’s taking care of it,” I think he says, but I’m not sure as he’s only half facing the camera. Again that uncomfortable feeling; an urge to get out of here and warn someone somewhere.

But who, and about what?

 _Relax, Red. Take slow intakes. It just means they’re discussing tactics…_ though why, when Inferno isn’t even going to be there, beats me.

Inferno’s leaving. Probably, he’s coming to look for me. Need to get this done…

I move on. NCO quarters – mostly unoccupied, most on their way to New York. Except the minibots. Oh yes – they’ve stayed; and I can hear them loud and clear.

Gears’ face is as dark as it was the day he found out he’d been offline for four million years. “Those fuel cakes are inedible!” he roars, “I want whoever’s responsible made to eat sump oil for the next week!”

Cliffjumper looks belligerent; Huffer terrified. Windcharger seems indifferent as he stuffs a cake in his face. “I don’t reckon they’re too bad!” he chirps, as Gears looks ready to explode. Nothing new there.

Don’t want to linger; Minibots don’t like me. They think I’m a freak, and Brawn goes off his head if he knows I listen. I don’t like them either - pushy little fraggers. They think they own the place at times.

I need to go down further – I have a sweep to complete. But there’s a prickling in my circuits now, and I don’t _want_ to…

Because of - what _? Come on Red - only one more level - just what in the name of Sigma is going_ on _with you? This is your job!_

Yet as I descend to the basement, energon races through my conduits, and I’m having to swallow hard; even though Wheeljack’s lab shows no cause for concern and whilst the Dinobots are loose, they seem calm and relaxed; even Slag’s laughing.

 _No – no worries there,_ I tell myself – but it’s with increasing unease that I view the emergency equipment store. I half expect to see some mech lurking in the shadows; Frenzy, or Laserbeak maybe.

But it’s all fine. The spare salvage and rescue gear is alone in the darkness, and same with the weapons storage area. The corridor towards the port side secret entrance is empty, the  tunnel drone sitting there inert…

The drone! It’s the drone that captures my attention, which sends strange signals racing through my circuits. And I remember now, the drone was in the bunker. The drone was active then. The drone was trying to stop us…

Yes, that's right!   _I don’t want to die down here,_ that other person said. Somebody who needed me – and I saved him. Yes, I was important at that moment - wanted, and valued. Something happened after that. I…

It’s the sharp pain in my chest that I’m not prepared for, so strong that I almost double over. I clutch at it, and cry out. _Oh mech what is happening…_

It goes on, and it's like I'm caught in a vice, and I can hardly get my intakes, and I _swear_ the only time I ever felt like this was before when I lost my bond mate.

I’m venting hard, my chest thrumming. _Flashfire, I’m thinking. Flashfire – oh no, Flashfire…_ But I haven’t thought of him for eons -

No. I _did_ think about him lately; mentioned him even. To _that person,_ the one who was in the bunker. Nobody ever wanted to hear about Flashfire; nobody cared – but this mech did. He understood a lot of things about me.

But Flashfire’s gone, and this other mech is gone, and now I’m all alone in my control room. My spark hurts, and I realize tears are plopping on to the consul. Oh this is silly! I grab a cloth and wipe them away. _Come to your senses, Red Alert!_ And yet the pain in my spark remains.

 _“Don’t hurt him,”_ I find myself saying. “ _Please don’t hurt him, don’t – it isn’t how you think.”_

And I’m saying that to Inferno, and Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe, and Optimus Prime. I just keep repeating it, over and over; and I don’t even know who I’m talking about.


	4. Starscream: Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the G1 episode "City of Steel.' The Decepticons have replaced New York with 'New Cybertron,' and Optimus Prime has been decapitated, his head retained by Megatron and his body turned into an 'allagatorcon' by the Constructicons. With such success, the Decepticons have a temporary 'happy' interlude. But as we know, this doesn't last. And in the interim, Starscream can't stop thinking about a certain Autobot - or relieving his pasisons accordingly.
> 
> *Warnings* in this chapter for sticky smut, Seeker smut (Starscream x Skywarp), fluids, oral sex, spanking and mirror sex. Plus some angst, fluff and mild violence.

“Magnificent, Soundwave. Magnificent!” Megatron surveyed _New Cybertron,_ relishing the metal structures that had replaced the flimsy concrete of old _New York_. “We have a base at last. And with Optimus Prime incapacitated, we can properly begin the harnessing of this planet’s resources, _heh heh heh_ …”

The Decepticon leader took a moment to gloat over the demise of the Autobot leader, whose dismembered parts had decorated the new medroom floor earlier and were now scattered around – well – wherever the Constructicons had deemed them most useful; except the still conscious head, of course, which would be kept for entertainment.

“You know – you were right, Soundwave.  Starscream’s been so cooperative lately that I hardly know him,” the leader went on, undeterred by Soundwave neither speaking nor nodding a response. “I admit had my doubts about his motives for stealing that Negavator, but now I believe he was genuine. He really did dupe that Autobot…” he chuckled again. “The fool!”

A satisfied smile settled on his faceplates. “I believe it was a lesson to Starscream, that I would abandon him, leave him out in the cold. Ever since, he has done his utmost to - _please_ me. It has been a most satisfying experience, Soundwave. To think I thought he’d wanted somebody else!”

This time, a response was evidently expected. “Yes, Megatron.” It was all the telepath uttered.

“Yes, _indeed…”_ Megatron went on. “I’m glad you agree, Soundwave. After all, Starscream really is _such_ an asset when he is – compliant. I have to confess that when things go like this, I can almost forget the number of times he has tried to depose me.” _  
_

 _And that is your weakness,_ Soundwave thought. _Whatever else, it will be your downfall_ – _not that what Shockwave and I have planned would make any difference whether Starscream was on board or not…_

“Yes Megatron,” he said solemnly again. A good thing that the leader could not read _his_ mind.

…………

Clutching at the edges of the table, Starscream squirmed in delight. Raising his legs,  he allowed Megatron to hook them over his shoulders, which meant the Decepticon leader could go gloriously deep. Grabbing the red hips, Megatron thrust hard, enjoying the tightness of Starscream’s valve, turned on even more by the satisfying scrape of the Seeker's flattened wings on the metal desk.  
   
Oh yes, his second in command felt good. Megatron grunted, driving deeper, harder; enjoying the way the responsive valve clamped around his spike, gripping every part of his magnificent appendage.

Starscream liked it too. That much was obvious (how could he not?) "Oh yes!”  he murmured. That's so good the way you do that. Frag me harder, harder please, _please_ oh mighty Megatron!"  
   
Good. Starscream had certainly learned some reverence. And he'd gotten over using human terms for interfacing (which was a distinct turn off).

Pleased, Megatron obliged, feeling his own charge nearing capacity anyway, as he increased speed and rammed more forcefully. He liked that Starscream cried out as if in both pleasure and pain, meeting the plunges with bucking hips. "I'm close!” he wailed. “So close, Megatron...take me there!"  
   
Yes - Starscream had finally come to know his place! He whimpered subserviently now, fingering the sensitive nodes above his valve. The leader’s charge surged mightily. Megatron loved that – if only to assert that _he alone_ would pleasure his second in command.

With that thought, he knocked Starscream's hand away,  plunging in with new need, quickly reaching the final ascent to overload; then he exploded, energy crackling wildly as fluid spurted into the Seeker in frenzied hot jets.  
   
Starscream overloaded too, his face contorted through the smoke and static as he cried out Megatron’s name. His valve clamped hard on to his more than ample spike, and Megatron roared as exquisite bolts of pleasure bombarded his pleasure centres afresh, scintillating to his extremities.  
   
Extreme satisfaction reverberated soundly through the leader’s titanium core. Starscream’s optics were online, hazy with satiation. Megatron approved greatly that his body still  spasmed in the throws of overload, as steam hissed from his intakes. _Impressive,_ thought the leader – even if he did say so himself.

Even more impressive was the volume of fluid that dripped from the Seeker's valve as Megatron withdrew his still erect - and still very admirable – appendage.  
   
"Thank you Megatron. That was - wonderful..." Starscream smiled at him coquettishly. At times like this he was almost cute - had Decepticons had such words in their vocabulary.  
 

Water splashed from the washrack as Megatron removed the vestiges of their passion.

There was no doubt at how immensely pleased with himself he was. And it had not been a bad effort, Starscream concluded. Megatron’s general improved mood since they established the New Cybertron fortress had certainly made the sex better. Starscream had genuinely overloaded.

 _Not thoroughly enough though_. His valve may have had a good service, but his spike throbbed dully inside its casing. A touch of annoyance seeped in. Megatron was still Megatron. There were severe limitations with a mech who thought his rutting reigned supreme, who saw another spike as unthinkable competition – especially when it was larger than his own.  
   
Stretching out on the king sized berth, Starscream put his hands behind his head. He gazed at the ornate ceiling. His thoughts drifted - as they had more often, to the night in the warehouse. He remembered the Autobot's adoring words, the shining blue optics as he slid back the cover to his slick, smooth valve…

Oh yes - Red Alert had liked it in the valve; liked _Starscream_ giving it to him in the valve; worshipped the attentions, as though the Seeker were some long lost deity.  Especially, he’d liked it from behind; _genuinely_ liked it, as opposed to faking a liking. After eons of practice at faking, Starscream knew the difference.  
   
And Red Alert liked to have his spike out too – itself a very pleasing specimen - which unlike a certain other insufferably ego’d other mechanism had turned Starscream on immensely.

But the regret he had come to expect tugged at his spark. Red Alert had not been among the Autobots that had so far assaulted the fortress, and there had been no word of him anywhere. When Starscream had asked Thundercracker if Sunstreaker knew anything, the other Seeker had mumbled in the negative. _  
_

 _There won’t_ _be another time_. That thought still left an odd ache in Starscream’s spark, and a sharp twang of frustration. His unspent, unleashed spike erupted in a sudden fresh new bout of throbbing and he ran a hand over his codpiece. There was no doubt what he needed to do as soon as Megatron was gone.  
   
Megatron emerged from the washrack then, polished and gleaming. He smiled, a gloating manifestation of the mech who now had absolutely everything as he wanted it, not least his second in command at his complete disposal.

“I’m going to check on our prisoner – or what’s left of him,” Megatron chuckled throatily. “See how being without parts is suiting the great Optimus Prime.”

Crossing to the berth, he kissed Starscream lightly on the helm. “Now you don’t have to do anything, Starscream. Just wait for me to come back…” he chuckled, optics glinting. “Relax – and admire my efforts.” He gestured to the small courtyard outside the large plate glass windows. “The view from out there is particularly pleasing.”

Starscream felt the old fury stir. Another time he would sprung up, yelled “you mean _our_ efforts Megatron!” and come out with a barrage of ways in which he’d have done it  better. The smile would have disappeared from the leader’s face; subsequent events would have left nobody in doubt that Megatron’s efforts alone had brought about the great shebang outside.

But during this time of calm Starscream had – for the most part – grown more subtle. Besides, an idea had just sprung to mind. As soon as Megatron had stridden form the room, still glowing at the magnanimity of his achievements, Starscream activated his comm.

Megatron would be gone for a while - strutting around, ingratiating the smarmy Constructicons; not to mention taunting the humans, baiting Optimus Prime’s head and sending proclamations of doom to the other Autobots - oh yes, there was plenty to keep his lordly frame busy.  

Red Alert may be no more - but there were others who most definitely still existed.  

"Skywarp,” Starscream said pleasantly, “would you mind joining me in Megatron’s quarters?"

 

“So what’s the story?” Skywarp’s expression was bemused as he sauntered in. He stopped, and whistled, a look of wonderment and vague apprehension coming over him. “Check this out, would you…”

Starscream looked him over, pleased by what he saw. His charge was rising fast - it had been a while since he’d ‘communed’ with another Seeker. Whilst Starscream had in the past been more likely to choose his other wingmate, the heaving passions and declarations of love that tended to erupt once Thundercracker got going would have been too much today. Skywarp was far less complicated.   

Skywarp knew what Starscream had in mind. A small, lecherous smile crossed his faceplates. But looking around again he frowned, slightly. “Wot – in _here?”_

“Why not?” Starscream walked causally over. “Megatron has just pointed out how I should be enjoying and appreciating the surroundings. I can’t think of a better way …” he   ran a hand up Skywarp’s canopy, over his wing and back down again.  “Can you?”

Skywarp shivered. His optics blazed lustfully, and Starscream felt heat radiate as the other Seeker’s energy field began to pulse, thudding in steady rhythm. He was pleased. How good was it, right now, that Skywarp so loved to frag? That partiality was legend. He’d never had much power of resistance – and he _did_ like doing it in ‘forbidden’ places…

“I heard you hadn’t been getting it so much lately…” Starscream remained just far enough away to brush their fields together as he lightly touched the black cockpit glass.

“Oh pit…” Skywarp’s wings stiffened and he shifted uncomfortably. He glanced around again. “Yeah well - TC’s been tied up. And since Sideswipe n’me had that falling out…”

“Do you miss fucking Sideswipe?”  Starscream kept up the fondling.

Skywarp looked surprised. This wasn’t a topic that Starscream usually entertained. “Yeah - course I do! Why d’ya think I’m all _like this?_ ” His face fell. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna work me up just to grill me about _that_ , you rotten slagger.”

“I’m not,” Starscream mused, surprised at himself, in fact, for having asked that question. “Don’t worry – I’m not interested in the details, Skywarp. Physical or emotional.”

The other Seeker laughed out loud. “Emotional? Me an’ him? I told ya before. He was a good fuck – and that’s all.”

 _Definitely a healthy, uncomplicated attitude._ A vision of his wingmate _giving it_ hard and fast to the red twin sprung to mind. Starscream rather liked it.  His spike protested with a new straining urge. “Did you do him or did he do you?” he persisted, moving closer and turning his attentions to Skywarp’s wing.

“Both. We fought, we fucked – all sorts.” Skywarp’s voice had turned raspy. His fingers twitched, then plucked at Starscream’s canopy. “Right now I’ll take any kinda fucking. You want me to shove you down on that floor and jump on your spike? Say the word and I’ll do it.”

“Perhaps…”  Flaring his field harder, Starscream began to walk his wingmate  backwards, towards the wall next to the large window. Skywarp looked uneasy again, but he was too aroused to stop, his breaths coming in labored pants as he flattened himself against the wall.

“Starscream – this is nice, but I gotta say you don’t usually…”

“Sshhhh…” Starscream laid a finger on his lips. Then he kissed his wingmate, sensuously but fiercely.

And Primus - that felt good. Allowing his lust and charge full reign, Starscream pressed their canopies together, relishing the glass squeaking on glass. Taking proper hold of Skywarp’s wings, he let his spike slide out, groaning at the sheer joy of letting it escape as their frames ground together.

Skywarp groaned. His hands clamped on to Starscream’s aft and he kissed him back passionately, his own spike sliding out to press against Starscream’s as his fingers dug in hard. “Nice,” Starscream murmured, pressing against him more firmly and deepening the kiss.

Hands explored over wings, intakes, helms. Their bodies gyrated, sounds of grating metal and pleasure combining with the fierce hiss of intakes. “That’s more like it…” Starscream murmured as his lips moved to Skywarp’s neck and the other Seeker tilted his head back, moaning as Starscream’ bit into neck cords and circuitry.

Starscream luxuriated, enjoying the taste of Vossian alloys, the scent of jet fuel and high grade oil. He began to kiss and nip, sliding down Skywarp. He  mouthed the top of the black canopy, then went lower, his glossa leaving a trail as he fondled panels, explored crevices and seams. Reaching Skywarp’s spike, he ran his glossa along its length, liking how the black appendage quivered as fluid leaked form the tip.

“Oh yeah…that is good…” Skywarp’s intakes hitched. His fingers dug into Starscream’s stiffened wings. Grabbing his spike with his other hand, Skywarp massaged its length, his energy field letting off a sharp flare as Starscream took it, teasing with his mouth and tongue. Starscream bit the tip gently and Skywarp cried out, an energy flare erupting.

Skywarp giggled at the momentary small release. “I wonder what brought this on.?” His voice had turned smug.  “Wouldn’t be that night you had…”

“Never mind…” Starscream continued, determined not to be distracted, sucking the spike expertly, enjoying the noises Skywarp was making as his charge simmered like a vat about to boil. But it wasn’t Skywarp’s spike that was now making his own strain with painful need. As he swirled his tongue around the black appendage, his fingers slid down, finding the moist entrance to Skywarp’s valve.

As Skywarp moaned, Starscream grunted in anticipation. He’d known it would be already open, and it felt – wonderful. He wanted to feel in there, _be_ in there. He wasted no time sliding two fingers in and feeling around, pleased when Skywarp opened his legs and let him go deeper.

//You want that?// Starscream said, keeping up his attention to the spike, but pushing his fingers hard into the well lubricated orifice. They struck the sensitive ceiling node and Skywarp cried out as pleasure radiated in another energy flare. “Haw – yeah – what gives you _that_ idea.” His voice was hoarse with static.

Hot air from charged intakes blasted down on to Starscream’s helm. The other Seeker’s fingers took root in his wings and gripped, hard. Starscream shivered. Much as he enjoyed foreplay, he didn’t want to wait long. Keeping his fingers in the valve, he withdrew from the spike. “From behind…” he whispered, kissing the tip.

“Sounds all right – just fraggin’ do it…” Skywarp rocked, making Starscream’s fingers move in his valve.  Starscream gave the ceiling node one more jab. Then he removed them, noting with satisfaction as he rose to his feet that Skywarp’s face was almost in pain. 

That was the good thing about Skywarp. It didn’t take much to get him going. _Like Red Alert – only dirtier…_ Starscream was pleased – though he put the grounder straight out of his head. _Now - where shall I fuck him?_

At the other end of the room, Megatron’s berth waited like a mighty monument, the grey mesh spacecover shimmering invitingly. Since Megatron had decided he’d screw Starscream on the desk this morning, it was pristine since attended to by the Reflector triplets when Megatron had insisted – as usual - on their rising at first light.

“Here…” grabbing Skywarp’s wings, Starscream hauled him roughly in the royal berth’s direction.

But that made his wingmate hesitate again. “Oh no…” Skywarp eyed the berth. “You gotta be kidding, I mean – _that?_   It’s…”

“Megatron’s place of repose? Oh yes, I do believe it is!” Starscream tightened his grip. “Vey good too, for what I’m about to do. Just the right height.”

“But…” Skywarp dug his heels into the floor; and then Starscream could hardly believe it - his charge was noticeably diminishing, his spike retracting. _Skywarp’s_ spike was retracting.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Starscream snapped, furious at Megatron for interfering with his intentions yet again – even when he wasn’t even there. “I told you before – he’s gone for the duration. And don’t think he’d be worried about _that…”_ he indicated to the berth. “I know he’s thought about doing _you_ many times on there.”

Skywarp brightened. “Really?”

“Yes. Perhaps I could arrange it some time.” Starscream was seized with a momentary urge to clout him. Yet he controlled his temper. There wasn’t time for fighting foreplay, or exasperation at his wingmate’s naivety. He was too charged up to have Skywarp walk out.

Instead, he caressed Skywarp’s wing again, sliding a hand down and over the receded spike. “The mighty Megatron would be happy to oblige I’m sure – but he’s rather busy right now. So do you want _me_ to frag you or not?” He flared his wings, allowing the full force of his Vossian frame to impact on the other Seeker as his field lapped out harshly.

The lustful expression returned with a vengeance. Maybe it wasn’t a Voss thing, and maybe Skywarp was truly pleased with the notion that Megatron wanted to fuck him. Or perhaps the very nice berth just appealed. Starscream didn’t care. “C’mon – “ he pulled Skywarp the rest of the distance, done with messing around.

Skywarp was staring at the berth, as though it were a planetary monument. “Primus, that’s huge! Flash too…”

“On your hands and knees,” Starscream commanded. He had no wish to discuss the furniture’s properties - of which he’d had only too much experience.

Skywarp crawled on to the berth, the fined alloyed spacecover making soft crinkling  noises. He positioned himself perfectly, thighs apart, aft pointing upward - and Starscream liked what he saw. Grabbing the other Seeker’s hips, he lined him up with the ornate mirror that hung nearby. Megatron liked to watch as he grunted his way to an overload and frankly, Starscream found that gross. Now, with him doing Skywarp, the idea was appealing.

His charge flared fiercely as his fingers traced over Skywarp’s aft, and down to the entrance to his valve. “Oh yes…” he murmured, his static laden voice mingling with Skywarp’s panting. “I’d forgotten how good you looked, Skywarp.”

“Yeah well do it will you…” a shudder went through the purple and black body. Starscream glanced in the mirror, Skywarp’s spike stuck forward, a monument to need. His wings flared and he shivered, opening his legs wider as his valve begged to be filled.  Lubricant trickled out.

The most delicious sensations shot through Starscream. He could not resist just one more precursory. Dropped to his knees, he kissed the entrance; then he swirled his tongue inside. Skywarp moaned as Starscream’s hand came around to lightly fondle his spike, just enough to send his charge up yet one more notch without bringing him anywhere near overload.

“Oh mech…” Skywarp’s voice was almost a screech. “I thought you were gonna just frag me. If you knew what that was doing …”

His whole body was a writhing mass of charge; both his valve and spike were throbbing like heavy machinery. And that was another good thing about Skywarp, Starscream thought slyly. He always _talked._ _Just like Red Alert…_

 _But I must not think of Red Alert._ And the way not to do that was to fuck his wingmate into oblivion, right now.

Starscream probed his glossa more deeply, allowing a last lingering taste of lubricant and jet fuel residues to flood his sensors. Then he pulled out and stood up again, taking in the quivering aft before him, the wings that flared so stiffly - and every other indication that his wingmate _wanted_ to be fucked into oblivion.

“Oh yesss…” It was time. Raising his hand, Starscream slapped Skywarp again, once, twice, harder. Skywarp yelled loudly with surprise and pleasure, as this energy field womped out with a crackle of blue sparks.

Its force caused Starscream’s charge to peak again too sharply to wait any longer. Turning to their reflection, he lined his spike up. Then he thrust in hard, pleased that despite the readiness of Skywarp’s valve, he had it set nicely tight and that going in it looked _fantastic._

“Oh thank Primus, that’s good, that’s good _that’s good_ ….” Skywarp’s enthusiasm, his scintillating pleasure as the tip of Starscream’s spike slammed into his hyper-sensitive ceiling node, was exquisite. Starscream fucked him hard for a few moments, building up charge and thoroughly enjoying the sight. Then he slowed, entering only half way, pulled out, and - before Skywarp could protest - plunged the full distance.

 _“Yesss….”_ His wingmate yelled . Another fountain of sparks erupted over them both, falling softly on Megatrons spacecover like a rain of silver droplets. Starscream grunted, extreme pleasure washing through him. Grabbing Skywarp’s aft, he eased out, paused - and slapped Skywarp hard again.  

Skywarp cried out once more. Starscream plunged in. This time, the pleasure that permeated through Skywarp’s energy field flare was almost too much. Starscream began to pump in powerful rhythmic thrusts, watching in delight as his spike emerged and slid in again and again.

Skywarp’s wings ruffled, then stiffened afresh. He widened his legs and leaned on his elbows, tilting his aft up so Starscream could penetrate deeper, harder. The spacecover crumpled in his fingers, ridges appearing as it pulled form the opposite side of the berth. A rhythmic thumping combined with the dull thud of metal contact filled the chamber as ozone and jet fuel scents rose thickly all around.

Starscream hammered in, relishing the release, the feel of unconstraint he had with his wingmate. He let himself go, allowing his EM field to flow thickly over Skywarp, slowing a little when that threatened to overload the other and then thrusting afresh once Skywarp’s own field had flared again and his charge had settled to a high but sustainable level.

So Starscream kept it, giving just enough to keep them both on the edge of overload, closely watching the reflections in the mirror, until the pleasure became too great and sparks started to dance before his optics, a slow hiss escalating in his audios as they both raced towards the point of no return.

Somewhere in a world far away, Starscream heard an attack warning go off, registered his com pinging. Despite the _status quo_ , he hesitated a fraction, but they were both too close and neither could halt the headlong plunge into overload that engulfed them now. “Don’t you dare stop…” he heard Skywarp yell through a haze of static; and that was enough.

With final frantic thrusts, Starscream reached the crest. Then he discharged copiously into his wingmate, sparks erupting in a brilliant cascades as their fields exploded together. Skywarp collapsed, Starscream landing in a heap on top of him.

“Oh yeah…” Skywarp was a mass of panting expended pleasure. “Oh yeah, yeah _yeah,_ we just gotta do that more often…” Starscream enjoyed the overload as it swept through them, filling his circuits with a satiation he had not felt since… 

_No – not Red Alert_ … But it was too late. With a sudden rush to his spark, Starscream was filled with affection. He moved, softly kissing the back of his wingmate’s neck. “I’m fond of you, Skywarp,” he murmured. “Just know that.”

But for the soft panting of his intakes, the other Seeker was silent. Then he snickered. “Yeah well – I’m your wingmate, ain’t I? And like I say - that was fraggin’ _good.”  
_

The alarm rang out – impossible this time to ignore. “Oh slag…” Skywarp muttered; and then Starscream’s comm was pinging again - except that this time, it was more than a ping. Megatron’s extremely angry voice came through loud and clear.

“Starscream! Where in the name of the Cause are you? The Autobots have mounted a stealth attack. Get your wingmates and get out to the harbor – Primus on his throne only knows where they are – I am _very_ disappointed!”

Pleased that Skywarp had evidently had the good sense to disconnect his own comm, Starscream allowed himself a few more moments bliss on top of his satiated companion, before he answered: “Of course, mighty Megatron. Apologies, but I was just doing as you commanded – enjoying the surroundings you worked so hard to create.”

He used one hand to smooth the ruined spacecover as he spoke.

….

It was only a short time later, in front of Autobots, Decepticons and humans alike, that Starscream was thoroughly slagged by Sideswipe.

As the Decepticon second in command descended ingloriously into the icy waters beside the Statue of Liberty, he wondered if the grounder had somehow known what he’d been doing just before the attack, and whether this were a jealousy thing - or if it was just coincidence. It wasn’t until later, when crawling from the murky water on his hands and knees, that he thought otherwise.

For when Starscream saw the row of Autobot feet, and looked up to see the violence in the hostile faces gathered in the entrance to the sewer, he had this distinct feeling this must be something rather more serious than that. After all, it wasn’t as though Sideswipe didn’t _know_ he’d been screwing his ex lover on and off for the last six million years, and that this was a strictly Seeker thing…

And this encounter was unfortunate, since the day’s activities and lack of rest had left Starscream somewhat under-energized. “Any chance of some high grade?’ he suggested hopefully, spitting seawater on to the putrid concrete floor; minutes before Sideswipe’s large metal foot connected heftily with his head, and someone else grabbed him and he was propelled very forcefully against the wall.

And after that, everything went rather hazy…

 _Oh well,_ was his last thought. _I knew things wouldn’t last._


	5. Red Alert: Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Starscream suffers and comments continue behind closed doors, Red Alert gets paranoid and confused. but help appears from an unexpected quarter.
> 
> Additional *Warnings* in this chapter for sticky mechsex (Inferno/Red Alert), emotional manipulation and memory loss.

Red Alert's Journal: Earth Time October 21st 1985

_They are back from New York. In less than a week. The Decepticons had a debacle. Optimus Prime saved the day._

_As I understand it, this was despite Prime being dismembered and apparently made into a mechanical reptilian. Wheeljack dismantled this alternate form in a sewer with only basic tools. Then Prime’s arm was missing, but he got it back after it shot down Devastator form the tallest building on Earth. Honestly, the Autobots never fail to amaze me._

_I cannot help but wonder whether there is some subconscious desire on the part of both he and Megatron never to defeat the other. I am no psychologist, but this seems at times to be the case and if it is so then I cannot ever see there will be victory for the Autobots or Decepticons with either of them at the helm._

_I don’t know. I have too much on my plate to further analyse this now. I'm behind with the new systems. I still can’t get the volume to register in the rec room, and now I find that the cameras have been removed from Optimus Prime’s office, and also from some other mechs’ quarters._

_It's outrageous. How can I maintain my surveillance activities if I can’t see and hear things? I feel sure it’s been done so I don’t know what’s going on, or has been going on; for it seems that_ _in the last battle at New York_ _, something went down._

_I have asked about this. I want to know, to share. I am an Autobot, after all! But the subject is simply changed, as though I never asked the question. Inferno didn't do that, though. He laughed it off.  “Not something; you wanna know about Red,” he said. “Don’t bother your gorgeous, overworked processor about it.”_

_That left me feeling angry. And there's other things wrong with Inferno.  Like - he wants me. All the time. E_ _very time I’m remotely near him,_ _his energy field fires up.  I know he talked to Hoist. That was one conversation I could hear, loud and clear. “I can’t help it,” he said. “I’m aching for him. I just want to frag him non-stop, but I know he’s recovering and I can’t can I? I just can’t…”_

_“If only I’d felt like this before,” he said bitterly. “He wanted me in those days.”_

_Hoist patted his arm. He glanced at the camera, then changed the subject. I KNOW something else has happened to me._

_I indulged Inferno, for a while. I felt it was the least that I could do, besides, I liked the intense overloads he discharged through my circuits, the resulting peace and oblivion. Today, however, he annoyed me with what he said to me. I rejected his advances - rather vocally. It’s time to go see Optimus Prime._

 

“Ah yes, Red Alert - the cameras. Nothing to worry about – just that some mechs felt a little imposed upon. I can understand that – so I was more than happy to order the cameras disabled.”

“But Prime - sometimes activities should go on of which I feel you should be aware. And you know my protocols won’t permit me to intrude upon…”

But he holds up a hand. “Yes, I know about your circumstantial privacy protocols. I am also aware that other activities are not strictly curricular. But I trust my mechs. Besides, we have another advantage, Red. We have Mirage.”

That just makes me livid. “With all due respect, Prime, I suggest my cameras are a lot less intrusive than _him_ sneaking around in the middle of the night!”

But he only laughs. “Mirage does not ‘sneak around.’ He is far too professional for that. But look – Red – I can see you’re still nervous about your job. The work you do is valuable, not a mech on board the Ark does not think so. Now – as I’ve suggested, maybe you should see Smokescreen and have a talk about…”

“It’s all right, I’ll rearrange my priorities. I can see your point, Prime!”

I can’t. Not at all. But the last thing I want is _that_ , or – worse still – to be sent to Ratchet for another de-glitching.

He beams. “That’s my Red Alert…”

But at that point, the door opens and Prowl marches in, closely followed by Ironhide.

Prowl does not look happy. “Prime!” He salutes.  It is obvious that he has not even seen me. “I believe it appropriate to mention that Mirage has completed his surveillance of the Decepticon situation. It appears Starscream is in a critical condition. The Vossian component is talking payback...”

“Way over the top!” Ironhide looks equally unimpressed. “And certainly without my authority. We’d won. There was no need to waste energy…”

Once again Prime raises a hand, as a look comes on to his face that is completely unreadable. He glances in my direction.

They see me then. Ironhide reddens, visibly and Prowl looks immediately flustered. “Oh!” he says. “Oh I er – well it’s probably a matter of little concern after all, Prime.”

I do not understand! How can something go from being of sufficient gravity to get Prowl wired, then not matter at all? _Especially_ Prowl - the most logical mechanism you would ever meet in the entire universe.

And why does somehow the mention of Starscream being ‘critical’ cause an ache of such sadness in my spark that I’m afraid I might start crying right there in Prime’s office in front of them all?

But of course, I’m not going to do that! Oh yes – apart from being ridiculous, just imagine what they would do. I’m sure I’d be straight off to Ratchet’s. I'd be on his medberth before you could say “Alpha Trion.”

Instead, I swallow hard, smile stoically and say: “Well, Prime, I can see you have business to attend to. I do also, so if that is all I will attend to it.” And very well and very convincingly I say it too, despite their continued embarrassed expressions and Ironhide’s pitiful attempt at a lopsided smile.

“Of course Red Alert!” Prime looks hugely relieved. “Perhaps you’d like to continue with the perimeter monitors? You’re doing an excellent job there.”

 

I am so sad! As I walk down the corridor with my arms folded, there are tears leaking out of my optics, and I’m thinking how tragic that the war has to drag on with all this suffering and no results, and how nice it would be to be tucked away back on Cybertron, not involved in it at all. Right now, I even wish I’d never been reactivated.

But that, of course, is no way to think. Instead, I think of Inferno; and no matter that I'm still cross with him, there's no doubt how intense pleasure can take away the pain.

That is what I will arrange for now; I have decided. It is better than my other newfound escape – of drinking high-grade, alone and unobserved. I will forget that Inferno annoyed me. I will make up for brushing him off; avoid further mention of this thing that evidently causes them so much consternation. The thing that seems - apparently - to involve Starscream.

 

A little later, I’m back in Inferno’s quarters. I’ve had one glass of high grade, and  I’m shoving him roughly against the wall and kissing him fiercely. “Red!”  he’s trying to say. “Red – hey – what’s got into you? I thought you were angry – _oh my…”_

My hand has found his codpiece and is squeezing it tightly. “Forget what I said, I want you,” I growl. And I do – a few weeks ago I would hardly have recognized my own voice, or the urgency in it.

“Say – Red..!” I never saw him so delighted. His charge hums like a swarm of bees. The heat that radiates would melt an iron fortress. “Well now – think I might just be able to oblige you there…”

And then he’s kissing me – hard, passionately and with abandon; his glossa fills my mouth, hot and hungry. I let his all consuming desire wash over me, let it heighten my own charge and ripen relays, even as I’m hoisted up, thrown over his shoulder, and carried to the berth.

 

He is so hot as he lowers me, his optics burn and he pants raggedly. The scent of his arousal assaults me. I know how much he wants me – and it turns me on. I lay there as he kisses me – everywhere – and when the moment’s right I slide open my valve cover and pull him inside, wrapping my legs around him.

With each thrust he shudders, shaking with need. He can barely hang on. “Slowly,” I command. “Just frag me slowly…” my hand caresses his aft. He stops. “Just don’t touch me at all, OK?” he rasps. "Sorry Red, but you do that - I’m gonna blow. You got me that frustrated lately, I just – oh pit…”

My valve has clamped involuntarily on his spike; and now his whole face strains with the effort of not releasing. I put my hands under my head, and try to be still – but its too late. His hips have started to thrust – those urgent, desperate movements you get before an overload where your body takes over. “Aww frag, he yells. OH FRAG….!” And I think how ironic this is, cos _he’s_ the one who used to moan about ME making too much noise.

He bangs in, faster and faster; his fingers clutching like claws at the berthcover beside my head. _Clank clank clank._ Steam rises as his spike delves deeper, hard and huge, filling me with hot sharp pleasure. I move slightly, so its strikes at just the right place and enjoy his ascent, knowing that when he goes over, I’ll be there too.

He grunts, then slows, his face a picture of ecstasy. "Oh Red…” he croaks. “You are something else…” And then he can’t wait any longer. He goes over, roaring loudly, fluid spilling into me as energy explodes like a nuclear cloud. I go off too, the moment it hits my sensors, crying out with him, loving how the waves of divine pleasure take away all thoughts, all feelings, till there’s nothing but a swirling miasma of colours and peace as I slowly drift offline.

 

But all too soon I’m online again, and thinking about the conversation in Prime’s office.  I _can’t_ just lay here next to Inferno, who recharges peacefully like the Universe just offered him a life of guaranteed bliss. No - I _have_ to know what’s going on.

With half my cameras and recorders disabled, I have no idea how I’m going to find out. But I’m going to do something! I get up and let myself through the door, stealing away down the corridor like a thief in the night.

But before I get very far I hear voices. They're coming from the quarters I’m passing. I check – it’s the twins’ quarters; Sunstreaker’s to be precise. “Your idiot brother went too far,” a voice growls angrily. “There’s gonna be hell to pay.”

I stop as though stunned. Did I hear that right? It sounds like _this thing that happened_ again.  

And yes - these are Sunstreaker’s quarters. But that is not his voice. “You know Skywarp’s gonna take action,” the voice now sounds - weary. “And I’ve got no choice but to be a part of the darned thing. Damn it, Sunny!”  I know that voice. I’ve heard it before. It’s Thundercracker’s.

So their liaisons go on? I’d forgotten about that, with all the rest that’s happened. This ‘relationship’ they have that goes back eons – before the war, before Vossians were even in Megatron’s army. Prime knows about it. A lot of Autobots know. But it goes on, and everyone ignores it, pretends it isn’t happening – because it’s easier that way.

I fume again. It would still useful for me to have this on my radar! I could warn Prime if anything went wrong. And now, indeed, this sounds serious - worthy of a report; but without my surveillance equipment, there’s nothing for me but to stay outside and listen. And at least the corridor’s deserted.

“I’m sorry,” Sunstreaker’s saying. His voice is soft – so different from usual. His ‘Thundercracker’ voice, I remember. “But what went down – well mech! What d’you expect? Somebody was gonna do something.”

“You should have left him to me...”

“ _You?_ What were you gonna do Thunder? You got a soft spot when it comes to him an’ I get that, but don’t pretend it ain’t there. Somebody had to teach him a lesson.”

“On the battlefield, yeah. Not with half a dozen armed mechs and one half drowned and unarmed.” His voice has turned as bitter as soured energon. “By Primus you lot have double standards. Can you imagine if _we’d_ done that to _him?_   But we wouldn’t – see? Vossians ain't got much, but we got honour.”

A part of me is fascinated. If anybody else said that to Sunstreaker, there’d be hell to pay, I’m certain. But our most hardened warrior merely sighs. “Well anyway, its done now. He ain’t dead, is he? Perhaps we need to move on.” And then in a softer voice he says: “I don’t want this to ruin – you know - us.”

“I can’t stop what’s coming,” Thundercracker sounds wretched. “That would go against our Way. But it’ll be on the field and not in some Primus forsaken sewer – that I can tell you.” He lets out another universe weary intake exhalation. “I curse the day Sideswipe fell out with Skywarp. This has only added fuel to the dispute.”

There's silence. “Maybe we should just make them do what we’re about to do…” Sunstreaker murmurs.

And now comes a sighing of intakes, the soft clash of metal scraping metal. “Yeah - works wonders for reconciliation…” I hear Thundercracker say.

Sounds degenerate to muffled moans and murmurs - and as is protocol, I have to move on. I want to anyway. I can’t stand still. Cos something’s happened and it’s all because of me and I don’t know what it is, but I can’t rest until I find out.

I blunder on blindly now, not caring less that there’s a Decepticon in the building – so much greater are my problems. As I proceed, I try and recap what I know, to piece together the shattered jigsaw of my recent past. I’d run away – there was the forest. There's a big gap. Next, I was in the Negavator, and it was going to blow up.  Prime was there and the Autobots were there, and so was Megatron and – I remember it now – Starscream.

Yes – Starscream was there. He was the first to fly away. But before he did that he – oh how could I have forgotten this – he spoke to me on personal comm. He said “Well Red – so much for our dreams…” or something like that, and he sounded bitter.

I remember that now! This is progress. There was so much happening and I was so confused, that I hardly even gave it much thought – barely even registered it was him.

But it _was_ him – and he had my personal comm. And something else – a _look,_ before he departed; a look like I’ve felt so often in the last few days. And it seems absurd, cos I never really had anything to do with Starscream up until that point, but I sure remember that look, and it’s when I think of the look that I feel even sadder now…

 _What_ happened in that gap, that time that is so blank? That is the crucial question.

They did something to him. “For Inferno.” Why? Because he did something to me. In that time I can’t remember, he must have done something to me. My memory must have gone in the explosion, even though there’s something else – I remember now, a voice that spoke before I passed out the second time. It spoke things to do with Starscream. I can’t remember any details.

_Why can't I remember? If ONLY I could remember..._

I lose it. I panic - wildly; because _maybe I really am losing my mind?_   Starscream did something – hurt me in some way. The others took revenge – I should be pleased about that. But I can’t be. How can I if I can’t remember what it is and why are they not telling me, and why do I feel deep down that whatever it is they’re wrong, wrong, _wrong_ anyway. _I don't know. I don't KNOW...._

I quicken my pace. I hate this! I’m not in control of my own mind. I can’t stand it! It’s the worst thing. And I start to run, then, because surely when they find out I’m like this they’re going to relieve me of my duties altogether, and I’ll be put back in stasis, my spark in a box and I don’t want my spark in a box, and even though I thought that earlier about wanting to be deactivated I don’t - no - not ever, ever, _ever…_

“No…” I’m crying as I run faster, my feet clanging hollowly on the metal floor.  As I reach the entrance, I activate the emergency side door. _Let me go;_ _leave me alone…_ and it’s like that day I ran away from them in the forest, only so much worse because now I know they truly want me out of the picture, and there’s only pine trees and mountainside out there and this time I have no idea where I’m going to hide.

But I have to do it! My feet crunch as I run over the gravel, and I’m sobbing now, tears pouring from my optics. The trees – I must get to the trees further down the slope. There’ll be safety in the forest – somewhere, somehow; I don’t know where I heard that, but I know it’s true.

But it’s starting to rain. Drops ping from my frame, and the surface slides under my pedes – they’re built for metal, not gravel. I stumble and fall, cry out and panic….

Something grabs me. A large hand. A _huge_ hand. It's them!

“No!” I cry. “Let me go!” For surely this is it, the Autobots have send a dinobot to catch me. Now I’m going to get put in a box where they think I deserve to be. But a gentle voice is speaking, and even as I think this I know it isn't them. It's saying: “Hey now, Red Alert! Where’s the fire...what's going on?” And it doesn’t sound like Swoop or Slag or Snarl, or Grimlock.

“Get away from me…!” The voice is caring - yet I struggle to be free. It's only a matter of time before they get here. “Let me go!” I scream again. “They’re coming for me – do you want to be the author of my doom?” But the hand holds me firmly, and I’m pulled back, and now I'm getting tired, and I don't thnk I can struggle any more.

Rain is falling steadily now, rustling in the nearby trees. I’m soaked and I’m trembling and I'm a mess – for surely this is the end; I’ll be taken to Ratchet. But I look up. Large blue optics, regard me, kindly and filled with understanding. “Come now,” Skyfire says. “It can’t be as bad as all that? Let’s go to my place shall we? We’ll get all rusty if we stay out here.”

Raindrops drip from his helm, and he’s so _big;_ his feet make huge indents in the muddy ground. And suddenly I’m laughing, and I can’t stop, and my peals of mirth are echoing everywhere, because _this is just so absurd -_ here’s me all hot and hysterical, and him all calm and cool in the rain, and he like me is different from the others, and fate must be on my side for me to be caught by him and not a posse of other Autobots out on patrol.

And something else – he’s Starscream’s ex-friend…

I don't know why, but this brings me to my senses; that, and that he merely waits for me to calm down, holding me with gentle firmness until I do, and I feel warmth and comfort, the wisdom of ages in his touch.

I'm better. He releases his grip. He smiles, and offers me his hand.  

I take it. I’m calmer now; and as he leads me through the rain to the dim orange glow of his welcoming hangar, I feel at last some hope.


	6. Starscream - recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whilst Megatron gets furious at the extent of Starscream's injuries, Starscream has pleasant dreams. His awakening is not so pleasant, however.
> 
> *Warnings* in this chapter for violence, talk of rape and medical procedures. Some heavy duty fluff and sparkplay too.

Megatron’s finger tapped on the side of the datapad as he read the damage report.  Severe head injuries caused by repeated blows. Chest injuries – damage to spark casing; narrowly missed chamber. Intakes snapped, arms and legs broken, including partial severance at one knee…

The leader raised an optic ridge. The Autobots had really gone to town.

He read on. Optic missing, along with one wing. The later had evidently been thrown on Starscream’s face down, inert form, after being ripped in two. The optic had not been located. The other wing had still been attached, but twisted and crushed to a metal mess. The entire structures – wings and optic - had needed replacing.

 _Impressive,_ Megatron had to admit. For good measure, Starscream’s interface panel had also been forced open and - the leader gaped _\- his spike removed?_   Yes, that was what the report said. But that had been recovered; left on top of the wing, an inglorious decoration.

Unbelievable! It was the sort of outcome that Megatron himself would have ordered at the height of the war – a ‘warning’ to one of theirs.But for Autobots? It seemed – somewhat out of character.

Not to mention worryingly thorough; for there Starscream would have stayed, broken in the mouth of the sewer; until the tide came in and washed the parts away. Had Laserbeak, with characteristic vigilance, not spotted him.

Megatron’s mouth spread into a line. They would pay for this! It was typical of the kind of thing that happened when Prime was out of the picture – or so the attackers must have thought. The Autobots always were so pathetically dependent were they upon their _just and honorable_ leader for direction.  

On the other hand, there was a good side to this; the leader's lip components twisted to a smile. Apart from the excuse for an attack, how Megatron would enjoy rubbing it in. _The brutal Autobot attack_ \- the results would be there, preserved by Laserbeak for all to see, the very next time Prime took the ‘high moral ground.’

Such prospective amusement...

But in the meantime - the leader darkened - their antics had rendered Starscream out of action. Just when he was needed. His annoyance turned from the renegade Autobots – they would be dealt with - to Starscream. _The fool had walked right into it._  

And there was the distinct feeling that it was something to do with whatever Starscream _and that Autobot_ had gotten up to _that night._ The former benevolent feelings towards his second in command diminishing by the astrosecond, the leader got up. He glowered at the innate form on the berth. “Fool!” he roared. “You have fixed him, Hook?”

“Indeed, my Lord…” Startled, Hook stopped welding Starscream’s canopy. He put down the solder gun. “The damage is worse than it looks and Starscream is – very resilient. I have replaced certain – uh - vital components, and they appear to be functioning satisfactorily…” he hesitated. “In case you are worried, Sir, it does not appear that his – uh – interface relays were activated involuntarily on this occasion.”

Megatron grimaced. “I take it by that you mean that they didn’t rape him first?” So there were some Autobotly aspects; not that Megatron could have cared less, at that moment, if that had added insult to injury. _The fool, the absolute fool, for letting this happen…_

“Indeed Sir…”

Hook’s faceplates wore a thin smile. “Of course, full recovery will take - somewhat longer. He was under-energized at the time of the attack. I anticipate that he will be online in approximately one thousand two hundred and twenty two astroseconds.”

“His bungling in this instance has cost us our new capital!” The Decepticon leader growled. “New Cybertron was a masterpiece, Hook; the best we - _you_ \- have ever built. From there we were to destroy the Earth!”

“I ordered a simple air attack,” he thundered. “All right, Starscream was shot down – that’s hardly a first in the vast history of his incompetence. But to let this happen? Insufferable! And to think I thought his approach had _improved!”_

He glared at the Constructicon medic. “And _why_ this degree of attention from these particular Autobots? If you know something, Hook, then you had better tell me.”

Hook swallowed. He thought for a moment, about the spark activity that Starscream had been so keen to cover up. By Primus, he didn't even like to think about the consequences if the leader found out about that. But there was the _little agreement_ with Starscream to consider; besides which, it somewhat contradicted what Scrapper had been told. Yes – the Grapple connection was useful, sometimes.

“That Autobot Starscream spent time with. You know, when he – deserted. It seems Starscream behaved – inappropriately. In - uh - the sense I talked about before."

 _"I see..."_ Megatron digested that. He felt slightly better. _That_ was what had occupied Starscream's thoughts. _That_ was what had driven the attack. At least it was not some un-Decepticon, mushy, treacherous ... well, whatever else it could have been.

And the Autobots had displayed typical Autobotliness after all. Not gone the final distance; done what Starscream had done.  A pity. It would have been the final touch to the embarassment of Optimus Prime.

And provided some compensation for this _ridiculous_ state of affairs. Still., the leader glowed white hot inside. Starscream was even more of an idiot than he had thought – and so, for that matter, was this medic here now. “I thought I ordered you to find out what happened, Hook?”  He roared.

“My Lord…” Hook trembled. “With respect – you ordered me to seek out information unbecoming to a Decepticon. I could find none."

"There was evidence of interface activity yes," he babbled. "But you did not ask for this. There are acts in the – uh – interface department that do not fall into the category you requested. I should have tabled it. I should have investigated further. I – apologize, I...”  

“All right, that will do!” Megatron snapped. He had begun to pace, his fusion canon humming in agitation. “I had a feeling they interfaced,” he growled. “From what Soundwave said, it sounded – not like this, which is why I asked for the information I did. In some ways, that would have bothered me a great deal…”

He was still, lost for a moment in the memory of that outrage and jealousy, the need he’d felt to restore control. “My Lord?” Hook eyed him anxiously.

“But this is also completely unacceptable!” Megatron exploded again. “The imbecile! He failed absolutely to anticipate the consequences of his actions! With a mech like that security freak, what in the name of Vector Sigma did he expect?”

He turned to Hook. Other Constructicons were now there too, as if by magic; an open mouthed Scavenger and Long Haul gaped at him. “Now look at us!” he roared at them. “Starscream was so pre-occupied with his _tete a tete_ with that idiot’s avengers that he failed to stop the reactivation of Optimus Prime!”

“And now Prime is back in business – but I will have my revenge, Constructicons! Oh yes – I will have it – and not just on Optimus Prime. Once _he_ is back online…” he jabbed a finger at Starscream, “he will be sorry that the Autobots didn’t finish him off!”

The Constructicons were silent. Their pusillanimous trembling did not escape Megatron. The leader glared at them. “Finish his repairs. I want a full report on his status quo. And be quick about it!’

“Sir!” Hook saluted, the others following suit. Megatron turned and left, feet clanking hollowly as he marched away up the corridor.

The door hissed shut. Hook let out a sigh. “That was close,” he said. "But although I sense we may be repeating Starscream’s surgery, it looks like we are safe.”

………

The dream involved, not suprisingly - since the subject matter seemed to have seeped into Starscream's awareness more than a little often of late - the Autobot, Red Alert. Starscream had to admit, the dream was somewhat unusual. But it was nice.

With Red Alert’s small white hand in his, they wandered the streets of Iacon. Not the war ravaged graveyard of wrecked buildings that characterized the city now, but the one in its heyday - when traffic streamed on busy expressways and concourses teemed. When cafés and restaurants overflowed with happy patrons, and elaborate shops sported every kind of merchandise the well heeled Iaconian could require.

Red Alert had wings. These were not Seeker wings, but long, graceful and tapered, like those of a giant bird. Shimmering red and silver, they twitched and flexed, an indication of - like the rest of Red Alert - their extreme sensitivity.

Starscream had, he knew, been responsible for the wings. Crafted by a master, they were the best credits could buy. His arm went around Red at periodic intervals, and every time he took the opportunity to run his fingers down the shimmering surface, loving the way Red shivered and nudged in close to him.  
   
They paused, laughing togrther; for a store filled with security equipment charged three times the going rate, and didn’t even stock the basics. “You should work there – give them a lesson or two,” Starscream chuckled as he fondled the silky wings.

The grounder looked at him adoringly. “I only ever want to work for you, Starscream,” he said. “You’re the best…” and they kissed slowly and pressed together passionately, not caring about looks and comments, or that the store owner glared disapprovingly from behind the plate glass shop window.

They kissed often after that, thoroughly and intensely, needing little excuse. Around them Iacon hummed, a realm of ghosts beyond their delightful reality, their mutual appreciation. Filled with the desire Red felt, Starscream laid a hand on the grounder’s chest, tingling inwardly at the heated metal. Red’s hand closed over his, pressing it  down, the spark beneath pulsing with rhythmic need.

“When..?” Red whispered. “Soon…” Starscream said.  
   
They paused for refreshments at a café, sipping energon and coolant from a small balcony as the city spread around and below them, a tapestry of busting activity within a forest of elegant buildings. Over the top of his glass, Red's optics were fixed on Starscream, liquid orbs of devotion. Putting down the glass, he moved  closer, desire radiating like a live creature waiting to be unleashed.  

He reached to touch Starscream’s cheek and his chest components parted slightly, blue light glinting forth. Charge exploded through the Seeker, his spark burning like a sun. He wanted to take Red there, right there, in full view of Cybertron’s finest. But that would have embarrassed the grounder. In this curious state, Starscream wanted nothing, ever, to cause Red any discomfort.

"I think we should go somewhere," he gasped instead, settling for a heated kiss and some frantic petting that very nearly turned thoughts into reality, and the hell with embarassment.  
   
The hotel room was spacious and airy. Furnished in the old Iaconian style, it was permeated with sweet oil scents. Light speckled through half closed shutters as the ornate berth waited invitingly, its pristine covers turned back. The city was a distant hum, a memory left behind in the peace of this sanctuary.

The concierge nodded and left, closing the door softly. Starscream locked it. Then he took Red in his arms and kissed him, letting the full force of his electromagnetic field, the depth of his passion flood out. Red melted into him, his own field releasing uncontrolled, mingling with Starscream’s in abandon as their sparks grew hot, pulsing harder and harder.

Kissing frantically, they maneuvered to the berth. Red lay back, and Starscream slid on to him, stroking his face, finding in the blue optics a depth that somehow made sense of the universe, the chaos that had plagued his life. All that had happened seemed worthwhile and meaningful. All because of Red - and this.  
   
"You’re sure?" he asked, his chest throbbing as the components began to open.  
   
"Yes," Red whispered. "I love you, Starscream. I've never wanted anything but this."  
 

But 'this' never happened. The scene changed and Red Alert vanished, as did the room. Root mode changed to alt mode as a stark, icy landscape raced below. Fighting back panic, Starscream skimmed over the deserted wastes of Earth’s polar cap, the despair in his spark an agonizing torment. For he knew the one he sought could not be found, and that this time it was not his friend Skyfire – but Red Alert.

Pain consumed him as the weather worsened, the snowfields fading to grey. Perhaps this time he would just wait for the inevitable, crash in the wilderness, and hope he came to rest somewhere near his beloved. Together they would be for all time, in this white wonderland of swirling snow…

A sharp jolt, and Starscream’s circuits fritzed.  Electric charges shot to his extremities, fiery trails burning in their wake.  "Again..." A voice said.

“That’s it,” he heard another voice drawl gruffly, as his inner pathways lit up afresh. “Core systems booted. Activation commenced.”

“Remove the life support, Bonecrusher would you please? His other systems will activate in sequence.”

More electric tinglings; and then his systems were coning to life, pinging on one by one as sensation returned to his parts, his inner workings. He winced as the current struck his interface relays, _Primus that hurt,_ _what the deuce has happened there..?_   Then all too familiar hands coasted over his panels, lingering too long and unnecessarily heated.

 _Oh frag.“_ Get off me Hook…” It was all that Starscream could muster as he blindly swiped at his assailant.

“Seems we have consciousness already!” the medic’s voice was laced with inappropriate amusement. “Let’s dope him up with some of Mixmaster’s finest while his self repairs go to work. And someone tell Megatron he’s back in the world of the onlined.”

…………..

“Starscream…?” This voice was not Hook’s – though there were Constructicons in the room. Starscream recognized their distinctive metal rustlings, the slight squeak of Scavenger's never properly oiled tail.

“All right you lot,” the voice said. “Get outta here. I want some time with my wingmate. Seeker business. Well go on Scavenger  – scram!”

 _Thundercracker…_ Starscream might have known. He always _appeared_ ; was inevitably _there,_ in a way that Skywarp was not, had never been.  “Stars - it’s me...”

Starscream’s head felt as though it had been stuffed with polystyrene foam. A dull ache throbbed through various systems. His chest was heavy and his interface equipment…

It felt as though something had been ripped off, then shoved back on. Hook be cursed – he’d be hearing from Starscream and it would be a different story when he was up there, the medic down here. It has better not be permanent.  “Frag…” he murmured.

“Stars – you’re gonna be all right. And don’t worry about what those glitches that did this to you – I’ve got it covered. But the point is – Megatron ain’t too happy.”  

 _Why does he always have to come out with the M word first?_   Starscream declined to online his optics, though well able to do so. “Of course he’s not happy,” he croaked. "What is it this time?"

“He kinda blames you for what went down In New York…oh, that’s right. You wouldn’t  know – you weren’t there. Well – we lost the fortress. Optimus Prime got his head back. The humans are rebuilding the city, the Autobots are back in the Ark, and we’re in our very favorite spot – smack in the Pacific.”

“Oh I see….” Starscream was hardly surprised, either at the outcome or the leader’s reaction. Megatron had been bungling things up since the war began, and it was always Starscream’s fault – one way or another.

“Very inconsiderate of me yes indeed, Thundercracker, not to help him when I was busy getting myself beaten to a pulp. Is that all?” For the last events before he passed offline were filtering from his short term memory banks now: frame scintillating with pain as he was stomped on and bashed; multiple hands clutching, twisting as they tore, the pain dulled only by the blows. His chest burned; he could barely intake…

Searing pain in his wings. “Why…? He’d tried to say it – but he was way past words. _Perhaps they thought I caused Red's death,_ he'd mused, as his spike cover was wrenched off. _What the…_ but he’d blacked out before he knew what they did next. There wasn’t a recording. That was probably best. He didn’t want to know.

“Look – Stars – the thing is – I’m not saying I agree with what those bastards done,” Thundercracker was saying. “But why’d you have to go do _–_ you know? I mean – to _Red Alert?_ The others felt kinda protective…”

“Ah Red Alert, yes…” It was nicer to think of soft red panels and sparkling blue optics – except that melancholy enveloped him. “Alas, he is gone, I know,” he said. “I might have expected that they would blame me; though it was he who got in the Negavator…”

 _But I made him do that_. Starscream was suddenly so sorrowful it eclipsed the pain of his injuries. Pleasant things, glimpsed during deactivation, seemed suddenly all too real. He swallowed. _I must remember Red fondly_. “He was a looker,” he murmured. “Sexy little fragger – a pair of wings would have set him up nicely.”

“I knew it!” He heard his wingmate sigh. “Hell, Stars, I hear what y’say. I ain't exactly _impartial_ to that body type myself - as well you know. But the guy’s kinda – sensitive. He brings out their Autobotly instincts to take care of their own - you know how it is. By all accounts he’s in a right state now...”

Starscream’s optics snapped online. “Now? You mean - he's alive?”

“What? Yeah – course he’s alive.”

The Seeker propped himself up, leaning on one elbow. “He didn’t die in the explosion?”

“No. That fire engine rescued him. They're an item. Look, Starscream –“

“But - well why did they do it, then?”

Thundercracker wore a look of total incredulity. “ _Why?_   Look - you know what you did, Starscream. I ain’t sayin’ I think any the less of you for it. Hell – guy _is_ a looker. But the Autobots…”

“Now wait a minute – “Starscream was sitting up, now. “ _What_ am I supposed to have done, Thundercracker?”

“Starscream…” Thundercracker had that look, the _I know you have to lie to Megatron sometimes, but why do you do it with me_ one. “You - raped him,” he said softly. “Repeatedly, they say. Raped him and twisted his mind. Don't make it worse by acting like you don't know nothin.' They hate that even more.”

He regarded Starscream sympathetically. “I know with us its kinda watch your panels, blame only yourself if it happens. But Autobots? You should know by now - they don’t think like we do.” 

Starscream sank slowly back on to the berth. _You raped him…_ he could not even begin to deal with the confusion in his processor, the tumult of sensations that went through his spark. _You raped him…_

“ _He_ said that?” He asked slowly.

“Well yeah – I guess so. That’s how they knew.”

In a surging new sea of hurt and shock, only one thought loomed larger than the others. _You’ll suffer for this, you putrid Autobot traitor._

……….

tbc


	7. Red Alert - resistance and resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Autobots are punished for their over- enthusiasm in attacking Starscream. Red Alert talks to Skyfire, takes a stand and makes some decisions.
> 
> *Warnings* for Red/Inferno conflict/angst (ducks flying objects hurled by R/I fans), talk of sexual acts and rape.

Optimus Prime could not tear his gaze from the primitive photograph of Starscream in the sewer. He stared at it for a long time, still hardly believing what he saw. Eventually, he handed it to Prowl, extreme disappointment evident on his unmasked face.

“How did this happen?”  

“I believe, Sir, because you said retaliation was in order.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean …” what had he meant? Prime wasn’t even sure. One thing was certain though - Ironhide’s anger when he’d dismissed the initial reports as just showing  ‘a little over-zealous behaviour’ was completely justified.

“Ironhide was right,” he sighed. “The behaviour of these Autobots was unacceptable. And can you tell me also, Prowl, what possessed Sideswipe to take a polaroid?”

“He wished to pin it on his wall. The media is most amenable to this form of display.”

Optimus Prime threw his hands it the air. “This is not what the Autobots are about!”

 _No_ , thought Prowl, _and neither is lying to them and performing sneaky underhanded procedures to which they haven’t consented_. _Neither is authorizing any sort of punishment unless you are absolutely convinced of the other’s guilt._

Not for the first time Prowl wondered if he, with his inbuilt coding for fairness and justice, should be in charge of the Autobots. But he was also not coded to criticize the Prime or usurp him. Unlike Starscream, he had no rogue rebel programs.

“Another thing, Prime…”

 _Oh no, now what?_ “Red Alert had a bit of a ‘turn’ last night by all accounts. He went outside the Ark and ended up in Skyfire’s hangar. Apparently Skyfire enlightened him as to – er – certain events. He was, however, retrieved by Inferno.”

Prime fought down a new wave of anger. That shuttle! He was useful, yes – and very pleasant. But he was not ingrained with the Autobot Cause and his sentimental nature sometimes made him behave - inappropriately. “Skyfire had no business interfering,” he muttered.

“I agree, Prime. But apparently he was not informed of the state of matters. He does tend to be excluded at times. Might I suggest that he’s involved more regularly in our briefings?”

“Yes, yes a good idea…” Optimus Prime waved his hand. “The main thing is, is Red OK?”

“Fine, Sir. Apparently he went back to his quarters. He appears to be rational, and none the wiser about the – uh – real facts.”

“But this having occurred,” Prowl ventured cautiously, “might it not be an idea to now divulge those facts to Red Alert? Maybe even returned the correct memories?  It occurs to me that perhaps…”

“Absolutely not!” Prime glowered at him. “At least this way he forms a negative view of Starscream, and hopefully that overrides anything else he may feel at a later time. I’ll confirm with Ratchet that this is the best course, if that makes you happier.”

“Now then to business….” _Yes, the sooner there was a conclusion to this, the better._ “Send in those responsible for this - ” he gestured to the Polaroid. “There needs to be some form of punishment, however well intentioned it was. And schedule Sunstreaker to see me. I’ll see if through his associations with Thundercracker we can work out this ‘payback’ that’s evidently in issue.”

“Primus knows,” he raised his hands again. “We’re lucky that the Decepticons have at least one reasonable mech.”

“Then, Prowl,” he went on, “I believe we have some arrangements to make regarding a missile test that the humans want us involved in. Ask Ironhide and Blaster to deal with that, will you? I will sort out this other.”

“As you command…” Prowl’s stoic blankfacedness betrayed the uncharacteristic anger he actually felt.

……………

_Meanwhile Red Alert..._

I sit in my office and fume once again that I can’t have access to Optimus Prime’s. Because there’s still stuff going down, I know it. You don’t see Sideswipe, Bluestreak and half the minibot contingent getting marched by Prowl in the direction of the brig if there isn’t. You don’t get asked to make sure all security’s in order in the brig if no-one’s going in there.

I checked the cameras in the brig. Of course, there’s no point in asking what the will-be prisoners have done. _‘Don’t you worry about that Red,”_ they’ll say. _“You just make sure everything’s working and we’ll take over from there._ ” I wonder briefly about asking them anyway; but something in my spark quails. It isn’t just the inevitable fob off. I know its to do with what happened to Starscream over me, and I’m not sure that I really want the details.

Now I’m running my routine checks – those I am able to perform, at any rate – and I’m doing up a report. I take care that this is perfunctory and officious. I am sure by now that they know about my late wanderings and my refusal to accompany Inferno back to his quarters. I do not wish to be hauled away to Ratchet.

In my checks, I have got as far as the perimeter system. I am fed up with the perimeter! Never once has there been a Decepticon attack from the east - always they come in from the west side, over the ocean. We would be better with ocean sentinels.

I put down my datapad and fume. Even before the Negavator, they treated me as a joke. “There he goes – paranoid again!” they said about this. “The first rule of Red Alert – you can never have too many cameras – even in the sea.”

It makes me too cross to even think about it. In fact, I’m not going to. Instead my mind goes back to earlier; back to the hangar in the rain, to Skyfire’s gentle kindness and how he saved me from – I know not what, but it wouldn’t have been good.

And to what else Skyfire said…

……………..

Skyfire’s hangar is huge – yet he has somehow made one corner cosy. Large, simple settees sprawl before a fire that simmers in a massive grate. I settle into one, and Skyfire drapes a spaceblanket around my shoulders. I pull it gratefully around me and hug my knees to my chest, not realizing how much I had cooled in the night air.

Skyfire goes to a cupboard on the wall. He opens it, and there are sounds – glass clinking, followed by a _plop,_ and liquid being poured. I look around. Yes it’s comfortable, this place, right now a welcome port in a storm. Yet there’s a sadness here also, an emptiness I cannot quite define, and I wonder why that is.

I’m handed a glass of something hot. I’m feeling so much better now – but still my hands close gratefully around it as Skyfire lowers his bulk onto the settee opposite.

Rain hammers on the roof like tin tacs fired from a canon. “Well now – what brings you to run around on the mountainside on a night like this?” Skyfire asks.

His face is wise and kindly, his optics very blue. He radiates understanding – yet put like that, I feel suddenly foolish. What indeed? How must it look? _And what will he tell the others?_

“I just needed some air,” I say. “I suffer from claustrophobia. Sometimes the Ark – just gets to me. I needed to be outdoors.” It’s not untrue. I know I’m not the only one that feels hemmed in, sometimes, stuck on a crashed ship that’s buried in a mountain.

“Of course,” Skyfire smiles. “Indeed you are not alone. But…” he leans a little closer. “Are you sure that is all?”

“What else would it be?” I feel panic rising. _The others…_ But he is so calm, regarding me with those great blue optics that are somehow steadying and take away the fear; that make me feel safe, and cared about.

“You can trust me, Red Alert,” he says. “And you can be honest with me – all secrets will be safe. Tell me, is this – to do with Starscream?”  

Even though I realize I was half expecting that question, and even though I _do_ trust him, it still gives me a shock.

“Why would it be?” I cry. And I pull the blanket tighter around me. “Why all this talk of him?”

“Because he…” Now it’s his turn to look surprised. “What he did….” He stares fully at me for a few clicks; then his gaze falls away. “I apologise. I understand that these things can be hard to speak of; that it takes time to – recover – sometimes. Forgive me…”

“That’s just it!” I burst out. “What _is_ it that he’s supposed to have done? There’s all this talk – and I know something happened to him. On my account. But nobody will say anything to me.”

His optics widen. “You don’t - know?”

“I can’t remember anything after I ran away from the Autobots in the forest.”

Skyfire sighs. He looks wretched, now; as though he’s spent nights thinking and worrying and speculating, and now has now said and done one more thing to compound his problems. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “ I didn’t realize…”

“Skyfire,” I urge. “Please tell me what happened. Please – I really wish you would. Nobody else will.”

He sighs again, and obviously thinks deeply. “You spent a whole night in some - warehouse. You were not of your right mind.”

That makes me furious all over again. It’s what they’ve been saying – obviously – and even he has this view! “I was not nearly as glitched as they made out!” I snap. “Optimus Prime went and made it a whole load worse by grabbing hold of me. I wouldn’t have run away if he hadn’t have done that.”

"That may well be so. The point is - you were with Starscream. The whole time."

"I was?"

The rain patters on as flames flicker in the grate as I digest this. I _was? All night?_ I know I should be shocked, appalled – or something. But I’m not. On the contrary this is - amazing. _I spent a whole night with Starscream?_ He’s – well – _Starscream,_ for Primus sake. I've always secretly thought he was...

Wow!

Little currents of excitement wend their way through my circuits. ( _With Starscream…!)_ Primus only knows what my face says. But Skyfire looks utterly pained. “My understanding is that it was not a pleasant encounter,” he says.

“No? In what way?” I sound far too cheerful.

Skyfire regards me long and hard. “Starscream is supposed to have – forced himself upon you. It is sad, but it is most wrong. It upset the Autobots a very great deal – especially your mate, Inferno. This is understandable.”

“He’s not my _mate,”_ I snap, and I’m suddenly cross again, much more so than before, though I don’t even really know why. “And how do you know Starscream took advantage? Maybe I – encouraged him?”

Skyfire’s optics widen. “But how can you think this? You are – “

“An Autobot, yes. But Starscream is hardly unattractive! Besides, I wouldn't be the first..."  

He looks as though he’s been struck - and now I remember the history between them, and I feel suddenly awful. Heck – I don’t even know what the extent of their relationship was. It might be agony for him.

“On the other hand, he might have done – what you’re suggesting,” I say. “Cons do _do_ that kind of thing, after all.” Even as I say it, I hate the sterotyping. I know I don’t sound convinced.

“I sincerely hope he did not do not behave as he is supposed to have done,” Skyfire says sadly. “But you see, that would explain your loss of memory. Sometimes when there is a traumatic event, it is too much for the consciousness to take. The event becomes - suppressed.”

This much I have heard also. Yet I don’t feel “suppressed.” I don’t feel as if I’ve been raped – or been through anything bad at all. On the contrary, I tingle, as though there’s an echo from whatever happened, and it was really rather nice.

 _Extremely_ nice. I’m filled with sudden images of handsome Vossian frames; all wings and power and speed. _(Awesome!)_ I have to know more. “Do you think he _would_ have done that?” I ask.

He goes to speak – but I’m prevented from hearing by my comm pinging, loudly. //Red? Pick up – Red…//

It is, of course, Inferno. //Are you all right?// He practically shouts. //Where are you? I’ve been worried sick.//

I resist the urge to snap at him; in fact, it takes all my self control _not_ to snap, so sick am I of this cosseting and control. But I don’t want him saying to Ratchet I’ve got problems. Oh no – I’ve already made up my mind, I’m going ask some questions. I want no complications.

//I’m fine,// I say curtly. //I’m with Skyfire. I came out for some fresh air . He invited me in for a drink.//

//He had no business doing that!// I have a vision of Inferno bristling with rage – and it makes me even angrier. What - I can’t even talk to _other Autobots_ now?

//It’s not like that,// I say crisply.

//Of course not Red.// His voice is as cold as the ice melted by the fires he fights. //Nevertheless, I’ll come and get you.// He hangs up before I can reply.

…………

I turn the datapad over in my hands, thinking of what happened after. Inferno was so rude, in the hangar. He ripped the blanket off my shoulders, and threw it down, only grunting thanks to Skyfire before hustling me away.

I seethed - but I had no wish to attract attention.  I waited until we were back in his quarters. Then I let him have it.  

“You had no right to barge in like that!”

“Skyfire had no right to keep you in there. He should have called me right away.”

 “Why? Am I your property now?”

“You’re my – responsibility, Red. I promised Prime, and Ratchet…”

“Oh yes? Of course!” I spat at him. “Right, Inferno. Well if that’s so, why didn’t you tell me?”

His optic ridges knitted. “Tell you what?”

“You know what! About – about Starscream?”

“He told you about _that?”_ His hands clenched into fists. “Of all the irresponsible.... I’ll be reporting him to Prime!”

“You’ll do no such thing!” I shouted. “I’m just grateful that _somebody_ had the backstrut to tell me the truth. Or…” I smiled, and I know it was nastily, “maybe your version of the truth, Inferno.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How do you actually know Starscream raped me? Ratchet didn’t say anything.”

“Ratchet was trying to protect you!” Inferno roared, so loudly that a shudder went through my frame. “Are you that stupid Red Alert? It was obvious. You were covered in…” he grimaces in disgust, “the results of hard interfacing.”

He glared at me. “Surely you’ve got enough circuitry inside that over-wrought head of your to know EXACTLY what that means? Ratchet, like the excellent and caring medic he is, made sure you didn’t suffer. Meanwhile we sure in fraggin’ hell dealt with Starscream…”

“Oh yeah – so I gather! Well you had no business taking the law into your own hands…”

“Prime authorized it!” he thundered. “And as for you? You should be grateful! Mechs put themselves on the _line_ for you to deal with that Vossian scum – _are you too far glitched to understand that, Red?”_

With an effort, I calmed my intakes. _Steady, Red, Steady…_ Oh I understood all right – but I was beyond shock; beyond fury. I still don’t know whether it was his insufferable labeling, his patronizing attitude, his unashamed bigotry or the jumping to conclusions that made me the wildest; or the fact that Ratchet - evidently - _altered_ me somehow, and he KNEW about that.

And another thought screamed at me. “So I suffered this – indignity,” I yelled at him. “And what was your answer, Inferno? Apparently, it was to _frag_ me into being all right again? What – are you a psychologist now? Was that a new form of post _rape – therapy?”_

“Yeah well,” he looked guilty now. “You seemed to want it. And enjoy it. I thought it might help you forget – on some subconscious level.”

The wind seemed to go out of his sails. Sorrowful blue optics regarded me – the same that in the past have, without doubt, had an effect.  “Look, whatever we’ve done - all of us - it was for your own good, Red. Why can’t you just accept that? Why d’you have to fight me all the time, Red? I – I love ya Red, for all your silly ways. Here –“

He came towards me. Oh yes - he wanted to hug me and that this was supposed to make it all all right! But it was different, this time. No, this time I was done with him, so done that  it was just not funny. It could not, in my wildest imaginings, be _all right._ Not after this.

“Don’t touch me!” I snapped, pulling back.

“Awwww, c’mon now Red…?”

I stared at him, and I hoped it was as icy as the look he’d sounded on the comm at the hangar. But at the same time it struck me _I don’t want him going to Ratchet. If Ratchet has changed me and Inferno was in cahoots, then who knows what they might do this time?_

So I mustered all the dignity I could, and drew myself up. “It’s all right, Inferno,” I said. “I know how you feel, and I’m fond of you, too, and grateful for how you saved me. But right now I need some alone time, OK? I’m going to my _own_ quarters. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

And I went, leaving him staring after me in wretched disbelief.

……..

It’s no good. Now this whole subject is the only one in my head. And the worst of it all is that no matter how hard I try, I still don’t believe I was raped. On the contrary, I can’t get an image of Starscream out of my head. _He wanted me?_

But I do have to know – about that. _Because if I’m wrong and he did…_

No, it's not in my programming to condone rape.

 _Though by Sigma, if I was him I’d be jacked off right now if I_ hadn't d _one that!_ _And I wouldn’t keep quiet about it either. I’d be going right after the scumbag that said I’d done it. The scumbag that happens to be …_

_Oh my! What if he thinks I told them? And whatever the case, is he going to come after me? If he really did rape me, perhaps he deserved what he got. Perhaps he’ll see it as an optic for an optic – Vossian honour thing. Perhaps he’ll leave me alone. Perhaps…_

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

_If he didn’t do it, then I don’t want him to leave me alone._

_I don’t even know that I want him to if he did – so long as he does not kill me._

Hell. That’s insane!

_But he’s Starscream. He’s – awesome, and I’m so sure he didn’t…_

I have to know.

………….

Skyfire has no assignments today. I find him still in his hangar, staring balefully into the fire, as he stokes it with a long metal prod.

He smiles and looks up. “Ah Red Alert – I thought you’d be back.”

“I’m sorry,” I waste no time in saying. “I apologize profoundly for Inferno’s behaviour. It was completely inexcusable. It….”

But he gently grasps my wrist. “Love does strange things,” he said. “I can understand how he might feel.”

“I know…” I do feel guilty now. But this does not change why I’m here. “Skyfire?” I say. “Tell me honestly - do you think Starscream did – what they say?”

He lets go of my wrist. He does not answer right away. He sighs, a universe weary, mournful sound. “Starscream used not to be the type that would have done anything like that,” he says. “But he has changed, Red Alert.The Decepticons have changed him.”

“How?” This now has my complete attention.

He takes a deep intake. “Many vorns ago, Starscream was young - ambitious but carefree and honest. He had much courage. He was the first of his kind to even study at the Academy of Science, you know? It went against all protocols – but I was his sponsor. I believed in him. But then, there was the expedition, and the accident, and I was – gone. When he returned to Cybertron – that was when the damage was done.”

I’m intrigued now. I stare at Skyfire in fascination. I never heard all this before. I realize suddenly what a biased view the Autobots have. We’re trained to hate Decepticons – yet with most, we don’t even know their story.

“Starscream was jailed - accused of causing my demise. But Megatron stepped in. I still do now know of all the details – but that was when Megatron took over.”

“This much I have pieced together,” he goes on, as though lost now in his own painful thoughts. “I know that Megatron had organized the Vossians. I know that he offered Starscream the City State of Voss as its ruler. This never happened – if it was ever intended – for Voss was abandoned. I know that Starscream was bitter and filled with hatred; that it has destroyed his mind. I also know that Megatron is obsessed with Starscream.”

“And it is as toxic as you see it!” his voice is an audio-portrait of anguish. “I have studied them. Megatron has sought to control him – but he hates this – hates what has been done to the Vossians, blames Megatron even more than the Autobots. Yet he has been worn down, has needed Megatron - and Megatron knows this. He is strong, is Starscream. He has survived. He has tried to break away. But Megatron is stronger. I fear for his future.”

His voice shakes with emotion.  “I do not believe he is as evil as they would have you believe. But I am not under any delusions, Red Alert. There is no telling what his poor, twisted mind would bid him do.” He looks at me sorrowfully. “It is sad – believe me, it pains me greatly – but I believe his spark is corrupted. It may be that he not only raped you but intended to kill you also when the Negavator was in his power.”

I can well see how that may be so. Yet a warmth now swells in my own spark, a radiant glow that spreads through my being. I think of Inferno, to his pushing me around, to the fury I felt, be being labeled ‘stupid’ and ‘mad’ for my resistance. Like a moth to a candle I am drawn greatly to Starscream.  I may have an inkling – just an inkling – of how it is for him.

Skyfire looks so wretched that I want to put my arms round him. But he smiles at me sadly. “You know – we were never an ‘item,’ like everyone supposed,” he says. “But I cared for Starscream, and I still do. It would mean much for me to see him in a happy relationship. I hope he is innocent – for I think perhaps, Red Alert, that you and he would make a good couple.”

My spark scintillates, sending more warm currents rippling through my circuitry. I am almost walking on air! A _good couple!_    But more than ever, now, I have to know the truth.

“I have to find out what happened,” I say. “And I can’t ask Ratchet. I hate to say this – but I don’t think he’ll tell me the truth.”

Skyfire nods. “Well Red Alert, here is a suggestion. Maybe we should ask Starscream? He can lie to many – of that there is no doubt. But he has never been able to lie to me.”

A jolt of excitement goes through me. Did he seriously suggest that? And I don’t completely know where it comes from, but suddenly this idea is the best thing I’ve heard all day.

There’s only one qualification. “All right,” I say. “But I will do the asking.”


	8. Starscream: placated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream's anger at Red Alert is cooled eventually by an unexpected comm call. 
> 
> This is set at start of "Desertion of the Dinobots" episode.
> 
> *Warnings* for angst angst angst, and sexual references.

Thundercracker was amazed. He did not recall in a long time seeing Starscream so worked up – even over Megatron.

“That I would be _nice_ to that glitched-up moron!” the blue and red Seeker raged, pacing up and down in the undersea room. Fixed by Hook's mastery, his superior Vossian self repairs having rapidly restored the rest, he walked with only a slight hint of the atrocities he had suffered. "That I would _put myself on the line_ for him!”

He stopped, facing his wingmate. “I didn’t have to you know, Thundercracker! He would have been _scrapmetal_. But no – instead he gets the time of his life. And he doesn’t even have the wingnuts to admit it!”

Thundercracker nodded. By now it was clear that disagreeing was pointless.  

 _“Then,_ he persuades me to go all out for that stupid machine,” Starscream went on. “I always thought the Negavator was rubbish, you know. Rubbish! But no – I listened to him. I went along with his plans. I was _there_ for him. _And what thanks do I get..?”_

The dark blue Seeker opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t get a chance. “He set me up!” Starscream bawled. “The Autobots were going to turn up all along! Then, not content with making a fool out of me in front of Optimus Prime and Megatron, he makes up a _pack of lies!”_

“The scheming aft!" His wings twitched furiously. "Well I tell you Thundercracker, the Decepticons have been too soft on the Autobots! Megatron is a fool. We would have done away with them long ago if I’d had my way. I intend to see that we do it now. And especially _Red Alert!”_

He paused, his hands balled into fists, venting heavily as he paused to glare out of the thick glassed oval window, through which fish and sea creatures circulated lazily, a scene of idyllic tranquility in contrast with the turmoil inside.

Thundercracker hid his amusement - which was not over Starscream’s grandiose delusions. Nor was it over his assertions about ‘doing the right thing’ by the Autobot – for Starscream clearly had; he was too plain _disturbed_ for this not to be so. The funny part was that Red Alert had so obviously made - _an impression._

“So, you really didn’t – you know – force him then?” Thundercracker nevertheless felt the urge to clarify this one more time.

Starscream turned the colour of the Earth sky in an oncoming storm. “How many times do I have to repeat myself,” he cried. “Have I been talking to _them_ for the last two hours?” he jerked his thumb to the portal.

“All right, I believe you. It’s just that every Decepticon knows, sometimes attack can be the best form of defence. And it just seems like this Autobot er - _got_ \- to you more than most…”

“He did not _get_ to me, Thundercracker! Not in the way _you_ seem to be suggesting! My annoyance stems from my softness, my good nature – way beyond what Autobots deserve to expect. It’s – it’s the fact that Red took advantage of that!”

“I see,” Thundercracker chuckled. “So it’s ‘Red’ now…?”

“So what if it is!” Starscream shouted.

He turned once again to the ocean panorama, his wings ruffling stiffly. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking it think it was _good_ , Thundercracker!  For me, I mean. It wasn’t. Not at all! I just led him to believe that _\- the stupid glitched up fool!”_

Thundercracker sighed. He thought back, many eons, to when he’d first met Sunstreaker, the impact the mech had had. It was as though he had been gravitationally pulled, the script already written, a hopeless pawn in a game beyond his meager sphere of existence. And Sunstreaker still had that appeal. There was something about that brand of Iaconian grounder - a class and poise; purpose and skill combined with an irrevocable toughness. Despite the mech’s eccentricities, Thundercracker had seen that in Red Alert too.

 _And Skywarp even kinda saw it in Sideswipe…_ But then,Thundercracker thought of the purple Seeker’s short-lived, tumultuous affair with the jilted red twin. Oh yeah - it wasn’t always plain sailing with these mechs. He and Sunny had been lucky. They weren’t just attracted. They’d had the personalities to overcome the problems.

_And the Sides thing was a near catastrophe for me and Sunny...._

Starscream's wings twitched, his back a picture of agitation before the calm sea-scene. Maybe anything further _was not_ such a good idea; after all, was not Starscream volatile enough already? Did not the turbulence of the thing with Megatron make him nearly impossible to deal with sometimes as it was?

Yeah - _that._ Lest not forget Megatron’s weird, glitched up possessiveness, despite his hostility to Starscream at the present time.

And Red Alert seemed - at times - a hundred times more glitched than the pair of them together! Yes. Thundercracker should, at least, put the kybosh on this for now…  

Starscream still stared through the portal. “On a more practical note - Sunny got hauled in front o’Prime,” Thundercracker said. “He told him we want payback. I’m on it. There’s gonna be a one on one between Sides and Warp and I’m gonna deal with the others. It ain't gonna be pretty. They know that. But it'll end things our way an' they accept as much.” 

“A lot of that pit was to do with Warp an’ Sides,” he went on quickly. “You’re right – they can be trouble, them Iacon types. Not that Sun said too much. We didn’t want Prime saying that him and me…”

“You think I give a pit about this?” Starscream turned on him, optics blazing afresh. “Everything you are saying only goes to prove what _I_ have been saying all along – that no good will come from associating with those ill programmed, mal-wired mechanisms!”

“Now…” he moved away from the window, appearing more composed. “I appreciate you dealing with certain matters on my behalf, Thundercracker – though if I had to go through _that_ because of Skywarp’s _idiotic_ antics then I would have thought it was the _least_ you could do…” A blue finger wagged at him. “But that has nothing to do with how I intend to have it out with Red Alert!”

“Apart from anything else, it may get me in Megatron’s good books again. Of course - don’t think I give a Cybercat’s aft about him either, but it’s wiser strategically until I figure out my plans.”

Thundercracker let out a sigh. He doubted any further action would placate the leader; especially since he had a pretty good idea of exactly what 'having it out' would end up meaning. He thought again of the possible consequences, and shuddered. Maybe another tack…

“You know – maybe you should just leave well alone. Red Alert’s a bit - _out there,_ ” he said. “I know he acted like a jerk, but he’s kinda – pathetic. You rough him up, it won’t be any kind of real victory…”

“If I want your opinion I’ll ask for it!” Like lightning Starscream fired up again, his optics like burning coals.  Thundercracker read in them a defensiveness, like a Cybercat fending off attack to a wounded yet befriended laserbird – and it wasn’t simply defiance. 

 _I was right…_ But he managed a shrug. “The point is - Red Alert stays pretty closeted. He always has - except in fires sometimes, when he turns up with Inferno...” _Now there was another thought._

“Starscream …” Catching at his wingmate, he laid a hand on the blue arm. “They’re an item. Now even I wouldn’t wanna be on the receiving end if that guy turned nasty. He’s – not like the others. He’s  - extreme. He’s – hell, he’s a maniac!”

But this, evidently, was not a good argument. “You think that jumped up pile of junk bothers me?” Starscream snapped. “I could tell you a thing or two about _him._ You think I can’t deal with him?”

“Of course you can – _of course…”_ Thundercracker said quickly.  

Starscream turned back to the window. His wings flicked as he simmered, visibly.

There was a long silence. It was suddenly all too difficult. _Hell, what am I anyway?_ Thundercracker thought. _A slaggin’ conflict counsellor?_ It had been bad enough having to deal with Skywarp.

“Look..." Thundercracker said quietly, “we got another mission, remember?” Yes – best to move away altogether from this topic altogether. “We’re setting up a lab at the airport, and _you’re_ gonna get that missile the humans are testing. You got that? Why don’t you just concentrate on getting back in favour with Megs? Forget Red Alert…”

The blue Seeker grinned, suddenly remembering also what _e_ _lse_ Skywarp had said. “Hey - Warp told me about the session in New York. In Megs’ berth too – impressive, eh? Now - why do either of you wanna chase after some Autobot when you got all you want in each other?”

But Starscream only folded his arms, his face setting stubbornly. His wings drooped, the fire seeming to go out of him. “I don't know how it was for him, but it isn’t like that for me!” he snapped. “I can’t just _forget_ Red Alert.”

……

Starscream’s bitterness escalated with a vengeance as the day wore on, not helped by aching hydraulics and still relays, the lingering results which were - whatever else may be in the equation - mainly because of Red Alert's despicable lies.

The Seeker vented it accordingly, snapping out orders for the stupid new base at the airport (or so he considered it) giving Frenzy a sharp backhander when he answered back and not caring at Soundwave’s silent but obvious scrutiny.

When, with flashing optics, Megatron barked out a refusal to let him take on the Autobots who had assembled to watch the launch of the human missile, Starscream declined to argue. But he snarled in such a way that the silver leader could only stare as his second in command took off – not to defy his orders, but in pursuit of the puny flesh creatures' excuse for a weapon, which turned out not to be a missile at all, but a huge, fully automated drone aircraft that flew sluggishly over the hills.

A pitiful contraption! And the perfect vehicle on which to vent his frustrations. Starscream could detect in the distance an admiring audience of humans and Autobots alike. Idiots like Red Alert were undoubtedly in awe of the primitive device – he may even be there among them, sycophantically mingling with its feeble creators.

Starscream took great pleasure in blasting it out of the sky, exalting at the thought of the pained expressions on the noble Autobot faces. Gloating, he did a low pass over the Decepticons, regaining some esteem from the fact that they, at least, appeared to be admiring this superb act of destruction from their newly recovered and infinitely talented second in command.

 _Yes,_ Starscream thought as smoke billowed in the distance. _What was I thinking? I have many glorious plans – and I need to get them back on track. I really do not need interference from imbecilic Autobot turncoats…_

Starscream’s resolve only strengthened when a few Autobots ambushed the new base at the airport – the base that he’d so stringently opposed. How _useful_ that his comrades had all heard him say what he thought of that - especially seeing as how that stuck up jerk Mirage did a not bad job of trashing Megatron. Alphamechs had their uses.

The day rapidly improving, Starscream sauntered out as the Dinobots arrived, a smirk on his face. It was _only_ the Dinobots – and Devastator would be here soon. While these latest Autobot abominations were dispatched, there’d be another great opportunity for demonstration of Starscream’s unquestionable superiority elsewhere.

For other Autobots were bound to show – and there would be no silly ‘hold back’ orders this time – this would be _his_ attack. Some of those afts that slagged him would undoubtedly turn up too – and the hell with Thundercracker’s ‘payback’ when they did.

Most of all, Starscream hoped that reprobate Inferno would be there. _Wouldn’t wanna be on the receiving end…_ Hah! Starscream had every intention of being just that.

Transforming with flourish, he re-loaded the null rays. With a roar, he took off, screaming eagerly over the tarmac to join his wingmates, to enlist their assistance in his extremely worthwhile objectives.  

……

Starscream came around in root mode. It took only a few clicks to register that he was flat on his back – and to recall how he had got there; for overhead, Swoop flew low, cawing in triumph, her delight obvious at landing Starscream in this excruciating predicament.

He tried to move. It was hard; made worse by the painful repairs to his wings and other regions that were not the result of Swoop or any other Dinobot. On top of that, his head ached. The Seeker’s denta ground together. The Autobots would pay for this!

He groaned, slowly easing himself up. Actually, this was all Megatron’s fault. Why hadn’t that moron Devastator turned up? Had Starscream not had to endure endless treatises on the behemoth's talents as the great Dinobot pounding expert – loyal through thick and thin to the great Megatron? Had Starscream been expected to do _everything_ by himself?

Well Starscream wasn’t expending any more energy. Either on Megatron or the others, who’d done nothing while he was pounded into the ground - _just like in that sewer._ He waited until Swoop was appropriately occupied elsewhere, before hauling himself painfully to his feet.

Grimacing, he saw that the fight was still in progress, and that the Dinobots appeared to have the upper hand. No doubt a retreat was soon in order – but it was one that could proceed without Starscream. 

He barely spared his still battling comrades a glance before he limped away towards the hangars. His earlier enthusiasm seemed to have evaporated. Perhaps it was the morning sun.

……………

A ping. His comm…

Pausing his painful progress, Starscream glanced fuzzily across the tarmac.

The battle still went on - just. Alone, Megatron fought Grimlock, whilst Soundwave and his cassettes played a darting attack-and-dodge game with the spiky one and the one with the three horns. Meanwhile the coneheads lay in an ungainly pile as Swoop soared overhead. His wingmates were nowhere to be seen.

It did nothing to improve Starscream’s mood - or fix the pounding in his temples. To think that only a short while ago they had conquered one of the largest human cities on this continent. Would this ridiculous cycle of failure ever end? As usual, everyone was no doubt fine, or fixable. Just waithing to get slagged down, at Megatron's ridiculous intigation, yet again. _  
_

The mech was a fool. There was no way he would ever have Starscream's allegiance - or anything else - ever again. In fact, was it even worth bothering at all?

 _Ping_ _ping ping...  
_

 _Go to hell!_ Starscream thought as Megatron crashed to the ground, two of the beasts charging eagerly towards him. _I did my bit - I am done with this. See if your mighty Devastator is now free to grace you with his presence._ He limped on.

 _Ping_ _ping ping…  
_

Now he attended properly, that _wasn’t_ an internal comm. The Seeker paused once more, injecting coolant to clear his systems and shaking the fuzziness out of his cranium. No - definitely not.

That was - interesting... Starscream hesitated slightly, then snapped it on. //Yes?// It was almost as though he was expecting...

//Starscream..?//

 _That voice._ An electric flash went through the Seeker; a warmth, a fleeting sensation of memories far more pleasant than those of today, of _being cared about_. It was - familiar...

But only microseconds later it vanished, leaving instead an almost overwhelming fury.

// _Starscream..?_ // the voice said again.

//YOU!// Starscream hissed. //Why of all the…//His voice became a low, threatening growl. //What do _you_ want, Red Alert?//

//Starscream - listen…// the Autobot sounded astonishingly composed. _Infuriatingly so; how dare he?_ //I just wanted to say I was – sorry. For what happened.//

 _Sorry?_ That momentary warmth again, pleasant sensations in his spark; before the anger swept back. All that he had gone through, and Red Alert was - SORRY?

//Well it’s a bit late for that now, isn’t it?// he snarled. //Thanks to you and your cronies, I still feel as though my wings, and my intakes, and Primus knows what else are about to fall off. It might interest you to know that the damage could be permanent! I’ve been to hell and back - and you’re saying you’re _sorry?_ //

//They’re not my cronies.// Red Alert said firmly. //And I never knew they were going to do – what they did. But Starscream listen. I have to know, you didn’t - force me. Did you?//

First 'sorry' - and now this? It was the last wire.  Wasn't it bad enough that everyone assumed it, without Red actually asking this stupid dumb thing that surely _he_ knew, didn’t he? Surely he wasn’t that glitched, _was_ he?…

//Oh yes Red, but I did!// Starscream could not stop the barrage of sarcasm that issued forth. //Don’t you remember? I held you down and forced you into every overload; cables, ports, spikes, valves – you name it.  You protested loudly but alas – being the vile, sparkless Decepticon that I am – I couldn’t have given a toss.//

The ground gave a shudder. Fresh shouting and combat noises drifted from across the tarmac. Megatron's voice belted out together with Rumble's, which yelled very colourful obscenities. Starscream began to limp again towards the now nearby hangar, moving more quickly.

//I don’t believe you,// Red Alert said.

//Oh is that so? Why ever not? I was insufferably vicious and forceful.//

//You were not! Why don't you _quit_ jerking around?//

 _What?_ Starscream stopped again. //Well if you already know, why bother to ask?// he hissed.

//I knew it!//

There was a click on the comm. Somebody else - listening in! 

//Who’s there?// Starscream roared. //I suppose that’s more of your lot out for the latest laugh at my expense! Isn’t it enough that you made a fool out of me? I suppose you’ve got me under surveillance right now. I suppose the rest of your contingent are about to turn up, and I’m about to be…//

//Shut up!// Red said fiercely. //There’s only the Dinobots there. Prime and the others are busy placating the humans after _your_ little display earlier. And there’s only me here.//

 _He saw it._ Another twang in Starscream's spark. It was - pleasing. 

He ran a check. There was nobody else on the comm, and neither had any other Autobots arrived - apparently. But still he was unhappy. //You mean you forgot – that night - already?// He growled.

//I _don’t_ remember it, no.// Red's voice was soft; tinkly, like small bells. //But it’s not because I forgot of my own accord. Ratchet took my memories somehow.//

// Well - maybe you could have done something about that!// Starscream snapped. //Or were your servos suddenly paralyzed? Because I’ll tell _you_ something, Red Alert, Hook tried that pit on me, and I told him to go stick it up his…//

//Stop giving me a hard time, Starscream! It isn't like how it is for you - I didn’t get the chance!// Red sounded jacked off; sulky, now. //I commed you because I didn’t believe you did it, and I wanted to say I was sorry. Don't make me wish I hadn’t bothered!//

//Well maybe you shouldn't have!// Starscream barked. _Though did he really mean to say that...?_

//Fine!// The comm cut off.

Starscream stood alone on the airfield. He shivered, feeling strangely uncomfortable as a sudden sense of loss flooded his awareness. More sounds from the fight scene; but he only vaguely registered Megatron being slung into a wall, Soundwave not far behind him.

_Damn it…_

There came a bestial sound, triumphant and primitive. The Dinobots were most pleased with their efforts. Megatron was getting up, however. Starscream came to his senses. He knew it was a matter of time before he got another very different kind of comm call altogether.

And he didn’t want it;  wouldn’t be getting it - if Red Alert hadn’t hung up on him!  _How dare he hang up on me? And how dare the only reason be that he commed in the first place was to say he was sorry._

Sorry! How Autobottish. _How ridiculously Autobottish_. As if that would make any difference for what he was going to do when he got his hands on…

Starscream activated his comm. A few pings. It answered. //Red Alert?//

//Starscream?//  

//I’d appreciate it if you didn’t cut off comm calls when I’m in the middle of talking!// Starscream snapped.

//I’d appreciate it of you didn’t put scrap on me! I’ve had quite enough of that lately.//

//Oh _really?_ You think you’ve got problems – safe in that little haven of yours? Well you should try…//

// As it happens, I have!// Red snapped. //And some of them are because of you! Know what? You’re so _precious,_ Starscream!  You think you’re the only one in the universe that has to put up with anything at all. And here’s me thinking we had things in common; that somehow we ‘found; each other during. Well stupid me!//

Was it his imagination, or did something shift inside? Was it caused by the bitterness in Red’s tone, the frustration? Memories of adoring optics and smooth, sliding panels were never more vivid; a _closeness_ that was hard to define.  _He’s gotten to you, that Autobot_ …

Starscream didn’t want Red to hang up again. No – in fact he shouldn’t have yelled like that…

//Look, Red,// he began. //I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I appreciate you’re apology. I do – really.//

 Silence. //Red Alert?//

//I didn’t only comm to apologize,// the Autobot said.

//You didn’t?// A dark cloud seemed to lift. Even the fact that the Dinobots had drawn back and Megatron had recovered, was looking furiously in his direction amid a bevy of trashed Decepticons, could not alter the sudden shift, the sense of elation; the same excitement that Starscream had felt when Red first commed him.

//I want to remember – that night// Red Alert whispered. // And I want you to _help_ me remember it.//

A surge of energy went though Starscream, a primeval need, desire so strong that he nearly sank to his knees. And for a few clicks, Starscream would be ruler of Voss and second in command of the mighty Decepticons was utterly lost for words.

//I’m sorry,// Red said crisply. //It was probably just a one night stand for you, wasn’t it? Well that’s OK. I heard that Decepticons are like that. Well at least I managed to…//

//NO!// Starscream was amazed at the force with which it came out. He suddenly wanted so much to ‘help Red remember’ that it was almost painful. At the same time, his comm pinged – and this time there was no mistaking its source. Looking up, he saw that the Decepticon leader had started in his direction - and there was no mistaking his expression.

He turned away, overcome with an illogical need to whisper. //When can I see you?// he rasped.

//Starscream – are you serious?//

//I’m serious – I still want you Red. I’ve – thought about you. A lot, actually. I just thought that… oh well never mind.//

//I want you too,// Red’s voice was a throaty whisper. //And for what it’s worth, I knew it couldn’t have been the way they said. Apart from that my Autobot ethics indicators would have been repulsed, I just _knew_ …//

“STARSCREAM!”’ that was not a voice on a comm.//I gotta go// he said. //But I have to see you.//

//Starscream!// In contrast with that other bellowing, Red’s voice was a joyful singing, a sweet sound that sent ripples all through Starscream’s circuitry. //Thundercracker gets in the Ark all the time. I never figured out how, and its not the done thing to ask. But can’t you do what he does?//

Tingling all over, his relays on fire, Starscream thought hurriedly. _Thundercracker borrows Skywarp’s power chip rectifier and he teleports…but I hate teleporting…_

Besides, Starscream needed Red sooner than that. A lot sooner. _  
_

_Fires. Inferno fights fires and he sometimes turns up too…_

//See if you can get to the airport.// Starscream said. //I’ll try and help that situation. And Red - I'm sorry...// Amazed at himself but too dazed with sudden anticipation to care, he clicked off the comm.

 Megatron was almost upon him. The leader closed in, his hand raised in such a way that Starscream knew exactly what was coming. But it never happened. Glimpsing beyond him, Starscream saw two things: firstly that the Dinobots transforming into root mode, and secondly that his wingmates were suddenly sweeping in, apparently with a fresh supply of weaponry.

Elation swept through the Seeker, a purity of freedom he had felt for a long time. He took off, transforming and roaring over the tarmac. The first volley sent two of the ungainly mechanisms sprawling as a third tried to transform back and failed; then Skywarp was firing, and so was Thundercracker, and then others were joining in…

A nearby plane exploded, plumes of flames and smoke billowing copiously into the clear air. Another next to it followed, then another, and Starscream laughed aloud. Flying low, he made the final touches, exalting as the whole lot went up, then skimming back to where he had been before.

“Satisfied Megatron?” he called out.

The astonished leader could only grimace. There were times that it was _not_ a great thing when Starscream's trine finally came up with the goods.


	9. Red Alert: desperation, satiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red finally makes it to the airport. Where things prove - passionate. *Warnings* in this chapter for explicit sticky sex, as well as fluff, angst and badly behaved Inferno.

The Special Ops Autobots listened attentively as Prowl announced the agenda for the human liaison activities.

“At 18.30 hours we will arrive at the facility. At 19.00 we will attend  a presentation. The following morning we will tour the facility. The test will take place at precisely 11.00 hours, after which there will be a debrief...”

Prime nodded approvingly. “It is imperative,” he reminded those present, “that a good impression be left with the humans. If they were to decide that they did not want us on this planet, it would not be good news – and there have been too many incidents of late that might sway them in that direction.”

“They won’t throw us out…” Mirage seemed, as usual, calmly indifferent. “The Decepticons would eat them for breakfast. They need us. They know that.”

“That is so long as they do not develop their own devices to counteract the Decepticons,” Prime regarded him sternly. “Do not under-estimate their capabilities _en masse._ Besides, we must sure up our alliance. What if some other race comes here? That is not beyond the bounds of possibility at all.”

There were no more interjections.  Optimus Prime’s expression softened. “Now, if we’re all ready, Autobots? I will comm Skyfire.”

“Er – Prime…” It was Ironhide. “One other matter….”

A crestfallen look befell the Autobot leader. “I hope this is not Red Alert again.”

“It is, as it happens. Yesterday afternoon, he returned to Skyfire’s cabin, where he spent some time. They seem uh - extremely friendly. He also appears to not be on good terms with Inferno…”

“Now look,” Prime cut him off. “It is hardly my business to monitor mechs’ romantic inclinations, now is it?” The stern look returned. “I have seen no aberrations in Red’s professional performance since Ratchet’s repairs – in fact he has done well. I am confident that he will not have any more to do with – the one we mentioned.”

“Enough is enough,” he went on, gathering his datapads together. “And another thing:  if Red Alert wants cameras in quarters, there shall be cameras. I want this matter at an end. I appreciate the privacy concerns, but he has strict protocols. Prowl? You will re-enable the rec room and executive office systems.”

“Sir!” At least Prowl appeared to have no problem with that request at all.

“Primus knows, we have a great deal more to worry about than Red Alert,” Prime sighed as they exited.  “Our interest in him should be getting this testing facility included in his perimeter surveillances – if the humans approve.”

 

 _Red Alert:_ _Later the following day…_

I’m still reeling. I spoke to _him!_ And its all real – all these thoughts I’ve had, everything I’ve been feeling about Starscream, and am feeling now.

And I wasn’t all weak and pathetic and paranoid. I even put him in his place! That is the part that has left me giddy, and hardly able to believe myself.

I say this to Skyfire, who chuckles. Since I spoke much of the conversation out loud – something of which I was barely even aware – he heard a lot of it.

He seems extremely happy. “Ah - but Red Alert you have some spirit. You stand up for yourself, and speak your mind. Starscream may have suffered from being dominated too much, but he can be just as headstrong. He will respect your feistiness. This is why you are well suited.”

“Wow…” I’m only barely taking this in, as he pours warm energon from the pot over the fire. “You should calm yourself,” he says, handing me the cup.

I take it, but my hands are shaking and I can’t settle down. “He wants me to go to the airport,” I say. “He needs me there!”

“And you very much want to go there, do you not?” 

“Yes....” _More than anything._

“Then you had better get yourself together, and go. It seems that – strangely – a fire has broken out there…”

 

First, I have to go back to the Ark. Setting my resolve, I head firmly in that direction. Inferno will not be asked whether I’m going to the fire, he will be informed. No matter that he no longer – it appears – wants to talk to me. Yesterday, it emerged that this was the case.

Of course, I hadn’t wanted to go back to the Ark at all. After I spoke to Skyfire, the afternoon before last, I just wanted to comm Starscream, there and then.

“You can’t,” Skyfire said. “Not yet.”

“Why not? I cried. “You mean that you have put this idea in my head for nothing?”

“Absolutely not. It’s just that Starscream is on the Nemesis. External communications are inhibited by the ocean depths. You will have to wait until he emerges.”

I was devastated. "That could be an age!” I cried. For surely he was getting repaired; and from what I’d heard about the damage…

“He will be up and out before you know it,” Skyfire said. There's a human drone test in two days’ time. I would be most surprised if he did not show up for that.”

I was still unhappy; but laying his hands on my shoulders, Skyfire’s crystal blue optics regarded me with such kindly reassurance that my fears melted away. “You should attend to your duties,” he said. “Business as usual – Red Alert _doing his thing._ That way attention will shift from you to other matters, and you will be free to leave the Ark.”

I knew he was right. So I did just that, busying myself with reports, downloads, filing, the confounded perimeter arrangements and anything else that could distract me, until I was too tired to do more. I went to my quarters, knowing the surveillance on the Ark was so well tuned that Mirage himself would have trouble passing undetected.

Yet I could not rest; for images of Starscream kept arising; of speed and power and skimming over strange lands. Or were these memories? They seemed as such – as did the scent of jet fuel, soft intakes and gentle hands on my panels and of touches in places only he could find.

How I longed for him! But I had to be content with my own hands, with fantasies, and with frenzied and much needed overloads that thundered through my circuits, the last as dawn broke outside on the mountain. _I must be patient,_ I told myself as temporary satiation settled. _Skyfire will inform me when the time is right._ And before the urges could return, I got up and busied myself once more.

It was later that morning that Inferno completely ignored me, passing in the corridor without so much as a glance in my direction. Even when I commed him, he did not answer, and when I went to his quarters, the door remained firmly shut.

I was shocked. Surely he could not be this petty? And then, I was afraid – for what if he had gone to Ratchet? What if my nonchalant, _hey guys I’m just doing my job_ hadn’t worked? By late the following afternoon, I was filled with dread; and other thoughts were surfacing about Starscream. Fantasies were fine, but what if I was wrong about that too? What if _he_ rejected me? _  
_

I thought of walking the Ark unloved, alone, forever condemned by the spurning from both of my one time lovers. And what if Starscream did not wish to even know me; harbored even thoughts of doing me harm or killing me? The resurgence of this fear found me fleeing back to that safe refuge - Skyfire’s hangar.

“Too many worries,” Skyfire said. “I sense that with Starscream it will be all right. As for Inferno? He is probably preoccupied. He is among those I am taking to this testing facility.”

I did not think it was that at all, and I was dismayed by this news. “You will be gone? I hoped you would be here when I – call him.”

Skyfire laid a hand on my shoulder. “Tomorrow, my impatient friend, tomorrow. I will be back later tonight. I am not staying for the test, though believe me…” he chuckled. “I will be watching that with interest. For now – you need a proper night’s recharge.” 

Recharge? I did not think I could even sit still, let alone recharge.

“Here…” he handed me some warm energon. This will help you relax. Tomorrow we shall see what we shall see.”

Whatever was in his potion did the trick. I drifted away peacefully on the spare berth in his hangar, enjoying the soft rustling of the trees outside, my fears and anticipations cloaked as in a gently numbing fog.

I know that Skyfire returned late. I heard him land and transform, then come in, heard him busy with the fire and his refreshments. Soon after, there was a warm hand on my helm. “Starscream…” I murmured in my half wake state.

“Soon,” he said, stroking me; and this was not the least intrusive, and was very calming indeed.

…………..

The next morning found me seated before a large screen in the hangar. Skyfire and I watched as Optimus Prime strode resolutely to the viewing platform, flanked by his Autobot faithfuls and humans in uniform, as their drone rose sluggishly into the bright blue sky.

“How did you link to this footage?” My circuits were a mess of jangling nerve ends, but this did not overcome my surprise.

“I have – contacts among the human media. They are recording this, and will decide what to show on their television later. I persuaded those from whom some favours are owed to share the initial recordings.”

What were the implications from _that?_ But I had neither time nor energy to consider it; for at that moment there was a flash of blue and red - and Starscream appeared.

My spark surged. He was so fast! Streaking across the sky like a glorious dart, his panels glinting brightly in the rays of the Earth sun as he banked steeply and dove out of sight. I had not expected him so soon. And now he was here? Well - he was even more magnificent than I had thought and also - to my relief - in a perfect state of repair.

Skyfire must have seen my delight. He patted my knee. But the joy was short lived.  Uproar had erupted on the viewing platform, the well known shouts and click of weapons sounding as the Autobots sprang into action and the horrified faced humans drew back.

My insides folded in on themselves. “Oh my…” I clutched at the edge of the chair.

But Skyfire smiled as Starscream reappeared, circling the drone like a predator homing on its quarry.  “I would not be concerned,” he said as shots rang out from the platform, every one of them missing its target by a mile as Starscream ducked and weaved. “He is too fast. He chooses these occasions to prove a point.”

“He looks amazing!” It was all I could say.

“Hmmn…” Skyfire rubbed his chin with his hand. “He’s very agitated.”

“You can tell?”

“Always.”

I withered inside again. “Because of what happened? Because of _me?”_ Now I had seen him, I did not know if I could bear that being the case.

“Probably Megatron," Skyfire patted me again. "That’s the usual cause.”

Starscream came screaming around again. He dodged the fire, lining up to release two missiles that streaked towards the drone in perfect aim. They hit the target, the cumbersome mechanism exploding in a bright flash of orange. Starscream was already retreating as components streamed down, disintegrating into  trails of smoke.

I swear I could _feel_ his exaltation as he flashed out of view. I should have been concerned, shocked, horrified even…but instead, I was just staring at the screen.

“Awesome!” I muttered.

Skyfire smiled wryly. “I share your admiration. But you would be minded not to show it in front of Optimus Prime. Especially after this – it will not have pleased the humans.”

But I was filled with sudden revolutionary fervor. “We do too much for the humans,” I said. “I agree with Mirage. We should be doing more to resettle Cybertron - not defending this planet all the time.”

Skyfire raised an optic ridge. “Be careful Red Alert, you will get yourself in trouble – though undoubtedly not with the object of your affections. See now – he’s left, but the Decepticons will be up to something somewhere. That will have put him in a good mood.  Now might be time to make your call.”

 

But I didn’t - not straight away; for there were reports of Decepticons at the airport straight after that, and in an attempt to save face, a skirmish there – Skyfire was right. Before I could think further, I was summoned to make sure that none of Soundwave’s cassettes had detached and slipped through the back entrances.

And of course, with my diligence in the last few days, none did. Instead I was nearly bowled over by a contingent of Dinobots rampaging their way towards the main entrance, “What are you doing?” I yelled as one of my cameras was knocked from the ceiling and trampled underfoot. 

They charged on. Wheeljack appeared, leaping after them like a cattle herder on a cowboy film. “We’re sending in the heavy artillery!” he yelled.

I raced back to Skyfire’s  hangar, the broken camera clutched in my hand; and it was only a little later that, thanks to my own observatory devices, I watched the Dinobots thoroughly trash the Decepticons – but watched my beloved limp from the scene.

“Make the call,” Skyfire said.

This time I did.

 

And now, I’m on my way to the Airport – my processor a wild conundrum of excitement and nerves…

Things at the airport are bad – a complete turnaround it seems; Dinobots unconscious, planes on fire everywhere. We have to get the Dinobots back, put out the fires and restore order; and although I know it’s my duty as an Autobot to assist in this, I’m fairly _squeeing_ inside with the far more exciting prospect that awaits me…

But first, I have to actually _get_ there. Steeling myself, I walk straight up to Hoist and Inferno, who are performing last minute checks of their equipment.

“I’ll be accompanying you,” I say officiously. “I have to check that part of the perimeter that involves the airport.”

I cannot believe the way Inferno looks at me. Were my processor not engaged in fighting down near hysterical excitement, it would set ice shards forming in my energon chamber. “Why?” he growls condescendingly. “You’re hardly a firefighter. Hoist and I can manage. Prime said you weren’t to…”

“Oh come on ‘ferno – it’ll do him good…” Hoist interjects. By contrast, he looks positively cheery. “He can’t stay locked away forever. I heard he’s not on curfew any more – say, we could use an extra chassis.”

I feel the old outrage. They’re talking about me, as though I’m not even there! And Inferno said - _that?_ True, I’m not a firefighter - but neither is Hoist; and I sure have made myself useful on more occasions than Inferno could even name.

But getting cross will get me nowhere; instead I let his _attitude_ heighten  my resolve. “My point precisely, Hoist,” I say crisply. “Shall we go?”

Inferno pouts sulkily. “Whatever!” he snaps.  He transforms.

At least they roll quickly. “It looks bad,” I comment as we approach the smoke inundated runway. I might at least try and converse. “You always say it looks bad!” snaps Inferno. And that’s the last piece of conversation we have.

 _The aft_ . I’m glad we are no longer an item. And I’m thinking _what a jerk,_ he is pushing me in Starscream’s direction so hard, and he does not even know it.

Starscream. _Where is he?_ And now Inferno’s transformed and water erupts in violent cascades, as the fires fizzle and die. Meanwhile Hoist’s trying to get my attention, to finish loading the Dinobots on to one of the intact planes.

“Wake up Cybertron!” he jokes. “You’re parsecs away.”

“I was just considering my cameras,” I say. “I really must go check them out…”

//Red Alert!// The comm cuts in so suddenly I jump. It’s as well Hoist has turned back to securing the Dinos as Starscream’s voice nearly shorts out my master circuits.

//Why are you messing around over there? Get your aft over here!//

I can’t even describe the energy and excitement that goes coursing through my spark and core. //Where are you?// I babble.

//In the hangar, furthest away on your left.//

I glance over - and sure enough, there’s a flash of movement, a fleeting glimpse of red and blue. _He’s here…_ but then I’m terrified again. What if Hoist and Inferno spot him? Oh my – I can hardly bare to think of the consequences of that; what with all the hassle the Decepticons have caused Prime and the humans today.

And he sounds friendly; his voice is _wonderful;_ but still, what if…

I have to talk to him. “I gotta go,” I say to Hoist.

"OK - see you back at base..." he shrugs. Inferno is still busy with his fires, and doesn’t even notice as I depart.

 

As I roll across the tarmac, _that voice_ is back.

_Oh my - what are you getting into?_

I've thought about this forever now. know what I’m doing.

_Do you? What if he shoots you on sight?_

Then I was wrong – but I’ll try and dodge and get one back at him so we’re even. Yes - I wasn't so numbstruck as to not bring weapons.

_Oh really – you against Starscream? You’re all alone Red. All alone outside the Ark…_

//Red, hurry…// and the need in his voice tells me everything I need to know and silences the voice forever.

And now I’m at the hangar! _This is it._ I take a quick look to see that Inferno and Hoist aren’t watching – but they’re headed off with the Dinobots. I slip in.

He has his back to me. I gape at him, for he’s so – awe-inspiring. He’s massive, and powerful; his wings rise hugely above him like blue and red sails. He is busy prodding at a burned out console, and there is an intensity about it that makes me ache inside.

“Starscream...” I whisper.

He turns and looks at me. I melt. His dark face is so delicate and handsome, and that’s the same look, the same twitch to the wings as when I first set foot in that warehouse. And I know – as sure as anything can be known - that he’s not going to shoot me.

“Red Alert…” Amazingly, he seems equally lost for words. He just stares, like he can’t take his optics off me. I can’t from him either, and for a good few clicks we just gaze at each other – like both of us want more, but in the intensity of the moment we’re too plain shy to do it.

But I know there’s little time. I can’t help myself. Crossing the floor between us, I throw my arms around his neck, delighting that just before I kiss him fiercely, his expression is one of surprise and pleasure and that he happily lets me do it.

His lips are warm and wonderful; and he responds. He more than responds. His EM field goes wild as he pulls me to him; and then he’s kissing me, deeply and passionately, stroking my helm and pressing me to him as though he has been waiting for this since we parted at the Negavator…

And it’s familiar, like coming home out of a storm; and now I definitely know that it’s all going to be all right.

//I’ve missed you,// I manage to get out, amid kisses and ragged intakes.

//I’ve missed _you_ // and his voice is so full of static that I can hardly make out the words.

The desire with which he smothers me; the lust in his voice – I heat, violently, and my charge nearly goes through the roof. Energon rushes through my conduits, and my armour feels far too tight. Instinctively, I loosen it and his hands slide instantly under the edges of my plating.

He intakes sharply, his field flaring over me.  His hands are everywhere, and this sends my charge peaking higher. I want more, and I want it now and I’m grinding against him, getting my glossa far into his mouth as my hands find his wings and my fingers dig into them feverishly. That sends another shudder through him. “Need to…” he gasps.

“I know…” I pant. "Where..?"

“Over there…”

A large, solid looking table sits near the console. It’s covered in broken junk – before one sweep of Starscream’s hand sends everything crashing to the floor. Then I’m being lifted on to it, and I’m on my back; his optics are drinking me in, his hands coasting over my chassis; and I whimper as every interface relay I possess strains for connection.

“You’re so sexy…” he rasps.

“You are…” then he’s kissing me, hot, urgent but so sensuous, all down my front.

I squirm, plucking at his helm as his lips and glossa slide over me. I never felt so desirable, so wanton. My valve opens wide as he teases between my legs, and I so want his touch there. But he leaves, and climbs on to the table, hovering over me with liquid red optics as his spike slides out, pointing hard into my panels like a primed weapon.

I look down and grasp it as my charge surges, sliding my hand on the shaft. He shudders and cries out, his wings stiffening above, so mighty, so powerful. “Oh Primus Red Alert…” he rasps hotly.

I want him now. I shift and arch up, digging my heels into the table, guiding his spike to the entrance of my valve. It has configured with no assistance whatsoever - like it _knew_ exactly what to expect and what to prepare for.

He takes over, sliding in so smoothly, so effortlessly;  we both groan and I’m sure it’s with sheer relief as his full length fills me and the tip strikes at my ceiling node. “Missed this,” he says, and his optics meet mine and he kisses me again.

Then he’s bearing down, his hands digging into my shoulder tires as he begins to pump in and out, so deep, so far that  I cry out at the pleasure - sharp and almost painful, but so exquisitely beautiful. I feel his pleasure too and it’s the same as mine. I wriggle forward so I can get even closer, get him in even further; and I wrap my legs around him and clutch at the base of his wings.

“I love that,” he hisses as his intakes draw air sharply. “Just like that, _oh yes Red_ …” and he’s penetrating even deeper, even further into me.

This won’t last long. We both know it. We don’t even try. The table shudders as his thrusts become hard and desperate; he grunts and plunges in and I arch my hips to take him. That’s all that is needed. I explode, my valve erupting in a wash of lubricant as charge spills out, crackling up over his frame in a hissing of blue sparks.

He’s right there with me. He strains fit to burst before he cries out and fluids rush into me, ozone and steam rising in clouds. His spike pumps hard and his whole body shudders, his wings rising high as the force of his release sends me into another overload. My valve clamps hard around him, as yet more energy cascades out.

I'm still on the brink, a bizarre dance of agony and ecstasy. He shudders and releases once more and so do I... and then bliss descends, and the universe is all hot heaving metal and caresses, and deep, satisfying spasms. Anything could be happening outside – but we’re in a haven, and I clutch Starscream to me as though my whole self knew what it wanted and has gotten it at last.

And with the passing of my need goes all the worries and upsets of the last couple of weeks; but there’s more. My spark burns brightly, and I can feel his cockpit glass hot against my chest.

As the waves die down, Starscream looks at me with those intense red optics, and puts a hand on my chest. I clutch at his hand and press it into my spark, and his energy field flares over mine again, but it’s different and filled with a heavy charge of emotion.

“As I’ve said before, you do strange things to me Red,” he whispers. “But I like them.”

And now – yes, I remember; he _did_ say that before. In fact, other words and phrases are coming back - touches, caresses, passion that was buried and now rises up, like bubbles erupting on the surface of a pond. _Yes, that’s right – we did it under water. And then he hardlined into me, and I know this, for my ports are starting to twitch, and I want to find the panel on his hip – oh yes, I know exactly where that is..._

My hand is already wandering, seeking. But I don’t get the chance; for the mood is shattered. There’s a loud noise from outside.

 

“Quick – up!” Starscream’s urgency takes me by surprise. Scrambling off me, he retracts his still hard spike, then he’s up and dusting himself down while I close my valve and grabbing a rag, hastily wipe away the excess fluid. I’ve only just finished when a winged shape looms in the doorway and seconds later, Thundercracker enters the hangar.

Starscream looks relieved. But then less than amused. “Do you have to creep around like that?” he snaps. “I thought it was Thrust.”

“I wasn’t creeping around. But if you kept your comms and detectors on - oh...” he sees me for the first time and smiles knowingly. “Hi, Red Alert…”

In confused satiation, I’m a mass of jumbled nerves. Is this the end of our liaison already? Is Thundercracker alone? Will I get carted off to Megatron? Starscream shouldn’t have had his comms off.  I would never have recommended that if I’d known! Yet my spark warms again – they were off for me….

Of greater concern is the table. I reel with embarrassment at the fluids that cover it. But Thundercracker doesn’t even look that way.

“Starscream,” he says. “You need to come back to base. Megatron…”

“Oh I do, do I?” Starscream cuts in, flouncing over to the wrecked console in such an amazingly sexy way that it makes me burn for him all over again.  How can anyone not find him just absolutely hot and adorable?

“You can tell Megatron that it’s just as well I came back here, because he left half his equipment hanging around. Expensive Decepticon equipment! No wonder we’re losing this war.”

I can’t suppress a giggle. There are so many stories about Megatron and Starscream.  To hear this first hand is just so funny.

But Thundercracker is less than amused. “Starscream – you have to come. There’s – there’s something _wrong_ with Megatron.”

Starscream’s optics glint. “Surely you didn’t come all the way here to tell me _that?”_

“I mean – seriously wrong.”

“You had me worried, there. I thought it was something trivial.”

“Starscream - stop jerking around!” Thundercracker looks cross. “Hook reckons it’s a cybertronium deficiency. And there’s more than just Megatron affected.” He glances at me. "Some of the Autobots are under the weather too.”

Starscream and I look at each other, and we’re both thinking the same. _Darn, this_ is _serious. We’ll have to resume things later…._ But Starscream’s lips still twist into a smile.  “It is lucky that I have some cybertronium secretly concealed, is it not?”

He turns to me, and my spark melts at the gentle concern in his expression. He touches my cheek. “You should get back to the Ark, they will be missing you. If you feel unwell then lie down - don’t worry. I’ll join you soon.”

I don’t want him to go. I want _Thundercracker_ to go, and for Starscream and I to just – fly away somewhere. This was over too soon. But at that same moment, my comm crackles to life. //Red Alert? Come in, _Red Alert…//_

My core gives a jolt. It's Optimus Prime himself! Perhaps turning comms off _is_ a good idea. Belatedly I mute mine now. Prime can wait a few clicks.

“I gotta go,” I say to Starscream. “But I will wait…”

“You need something first…” and I hear Thundercracker’s sigh as Starscream’s mouth closes over mine again, and for a whole new moment I’m in his arms, and lost in him, and there is nothing else in the universe that matters.

Our hands clasp as though they welded, a poignant channel for the closeness I know we both feel; but then he’s pulling gently back and the fingers of his other hand are brushing my cheek. “Soon…” he says.

“Yes,” I look at him longingly as his fingers trail reluctantly from mine. "Please make sure it's that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay - they're together at last. So it begins...


	10. Starscream: desire conquers all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and Thundercracker return to the Nemesis whilst hatching their plan. Soundwave behaves unexpectedly. Drawn back to Red Alert, Starscream deals with Skywarp's hystrionics and conquers his discomfort with teleporting - with some unexpected help from an old friend.
> 
> *Warning* this chapter - things medical, including 'hypodermic' injection, mention of sexual relations. A lot of fluffy type angst.

_A little earlier…_

 

Cybertronium depletion never was a very peaceful condition. It brought disorientation, a lack of coordination and, ultimately, convulsions. Nevertheless as Hook loaded the tranquilizer into the intra-conduit syringe, the mech on the berth behind him seemed particularly restless for one in only the early stages.

“Where is _Starscream?”_ Megatron rasped again. _  
_

‘ _Situation as previously informed_ ,’ Soundwave intoned. ‘ _Retrieving equipment. Cleaning up at the airport. He and Thundercracker will return soon_.’

“He should have done that by now! By the might of Sigma, there wasn’t _that_ much left to clean up, was there?”

Hook was grateful for not having to answer this question. Or the other, about Starscream’s whereabouts - this having been asked now some ten or twelve times. He tapped the syringe to integrate Mixmaster’s components.  It would be so much better when Megatron was out to it altogether.

“Starscream has some Cybertronium!” the leader was growling. “I know it. And I want it! That he should leave me in this state - I am his saviour, his provider…his _commander!”_

Hook smiled grimly, pleased that the Constructicons had their own stash, at least enough to keep them going for now. Raising the syringe, he injected a small amount of fluid from the tip of the needle. Then turned to his patient.

“This will relax you,” he said. “And take the edge off the distressing effects of your depletion.”

“Well be quick about it!” Presenting his arm, Megatron regarded the syringe with distaste. The conduit between his arm plates pulsed, erratically.

Soundwave moved closer, standing silently by as the liquid flowed in. Gradually, Megatron relaxed, a smile spreading slowly over his face.

“When I get my hands on that treacherous…” but his voice trailed off, the words having lost their venom. Pleased at the quick acting components in Mixmaster’s concoction, Hook tidied up. “Call me if you need me,” he said as he exited the room.

“Soundwave…don’t leave me…” a thin, wavering silver hand stretched out from the berth.

‘ _As you command, Megatron.'_

“Soundwave…” the hand clutched at him. “I know things with Starscream have been – difficult. But I have tried, Soundwave! Truly I have tried.”

‘ _Indeed, Megatron_.’

“I tried to give him what he wanted, Soundwave! I know I could not restore Voss. But I made him my second in command! My two-i-c Soundwave! Did that mean nothing to him?”

Soundwave was silent, knowing what was coming next. “I know he should be more grateful," Megatron’s fingers scraped at his arm. “But truth is – I miss him, Soundwave. I’ve become – fond of him. When he gets back and you tell him to come here, say that I won’t hurt him this time.”

The telepath remained expressionless. He was well used to these mood swings, and had ceased to ponder why, in five million years, Megatron still had not figured out how he felt about the Seeker he had once saved from a life term in a Cybertronian jail.

 ‘ _As you wish, Megatron_.’

“Soundwave…” the leader’s optics flickered, a faded pink in the dim lighting. “You don’t think Starscream saw that Autobot again, do you?”

_Very likely he did,_ Soundwave thought. As well as the Seeker’s deliberate evasion of his presence – always a telling sign when Starscream was up to something secret – very interesting mindsets had been present. In fact, the strength of the desires and passions had been quite remarkable - unlike anything Soundwave had seen in Starscream before.

_Interesting_ . And Soundwave would decide in due course, after consultation with Shockwave, what to do about it; but it would not do for Megatron to get wound up at a time like this.

‘ _Negative…_ ’ he intoned as the leader’s pink optics strained with need to know.

“As soon as he gets back, I want to…” but Megatron never finished. He slipped unconscious, sliding into a separate universe, leaving Soundwave to ponder how much his own Cybertronium stash would last, and how much of it he should allow his cassettes access to.

It did not escape him, however, that a little later the leader’s optics regained the faint pink glow of distant awareness.

……………

Transforming on the warm tarmac of the now deserted airport, Starscream took off in a flurry of air and dust. Thundercracker roared after him, only barely keeping up.

Fast and powerful, Starscream surged forward. He could still sense the Autobot deep in his systems, could still feel his body pressed close, taste his soft lips. Within his alt form, Starscream's fingertips tingled with the last touch as Red’s hand had slipped from his.

The tingling increased. It trickled through his circuits and into his core, making his spark flare wildly. Starscream accelerated, exalting as he broke into a series of snap rolls, flashing blue and silver in the light of the afternoon sun.

//Hey Starscream…// Thundercracker was not joining in. //Settle down! You gotta conserve your Cybertronium. We still gotta report back to Megatron.//

//The hell with Megatron!// Starscream was not about to have his euphoria ruined. He rolled again, then soared skywards, up and up more, into the dazzling rays of the sun, cutting his engines and then slowing, _slowing_ \- until he floated in the clear air, hovering in the stall, enjoying the weightlessness as memories flowed blissfully through him.

Red Alert had been wonderful. _Perfect._ So beautiful… Starscream had to admit -  Red drove him completely and utterly wild.  And such chemistry between them! In that last kiss, when Red had grasped his hand, Starscream had felt the need thrumming through the soft metal, had known that Red had wanted what they’d just had all over again.

And Starscream had wanted it too - badly; wanted to take Red again right there, could easily have gone another few rounds. And their optics had met and either of them could have said this, but neither had to, so perfectly did they read each other, so hotly did Starscream’s spark glow in the exact way that he knew Red’s did too.

He dropped from the stall, falling through the sky in a slow flat spin, relishing the wind against his wings, the fire in his chest, the burning desire in his whole being. He spiraled lower, warnings sounding as the ground rushed up towards him. Only when the line of the coast registered _impact imminent_ did he pull up steeply and fall in to fly beside Thundercracker.

//You done?// his wingmate didn’t sound impressed.

//Only for now!//  Starscream trilled, before pulling ahead again.

Thundercracker felt a heaviness descend. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Starscream to be happy, or disapproved of his choice of lover; hell, he could hardly do that! But the intensity of this had him – concerned. _That kiss?_ Thundercracker was hard pushed to recall seeing anything so passionate since his early days with Sunstreaker.

And Starscream was erratic enough, the thing with Megatron unstable and unpredictable. Whilst Thundercracker’s previous fears about his relationship with the golden twin weighed heavily, the destabilization of the whole Cause through this _relationship_ – which was clearly of the _serious infatuation_ order - was now of far greater concern.

//Look – I know he’s pretty and everything// Thundercracker said, drawing level. //And he clearly thinks you’re the greatest thing that ever stepped into his universe. But Starscream, don’t you think…//

//If I want your views, I’ll ask for them!// The other Seeker pulled away again. //I believe we have already agreed to disagree on this topic. Though, as it happens…//

He rolled sideways, pulling up to drew level with Thundercracker again. //You might be of some help. I _have_ to see Red again. I want you to get Skywarp’s power chip rectifier.//

Thundercracker was astounded. Starscream _did_ have it bad. //But you hate teleporting!//

//That is beside the point! I want it, and I want it as soon as possible after we get back, as I don’t intend hanging around.//

//But Megatron…//

//If I hear that name again, you’ll feel my null rays shorting you out as you crash and burn.//

Thundercracker sighed. This would be tricky – and unlikely to yield results without a fight. Skywarp had left him in no doubt about his feelings after New York.

“The slagger used me!” the black and purple Seeker had declared melodramatically.

“Skywarp – haven’t we had this conversation several hundred times before? You know how it is with him.”

“Yeah well – it was mean. He knew I was feeling - delicate – over the breakup. And talking of _Sideswipe,_ when do I get to beat the scrap out of the moron…?”

And a rave about that subject had diverted his attentions, but not permanently, as Thundercracker well knew.

“You’re quite right about my feelings towards teleportation,” Starscream was saying. “That’s why I thought it might be good if you – came with me to the Ark.” His voice softened, “after all, would that not be a good opportunity to see the object of your affections? And I _do_ have Cybertronium.”

Cybertronium? Thundercracker might have known. And _that,_ of course, was not to be taken lightly. It surely would not be too long now before the aches and disorientation started. It would be so much more pleasant to avoid them…

“After all - you don’t seem to have been _getting it_ much lately, Thundercracker…”

_Oh hell,_ Thundercracker thought. _There is that too._ His relays tingled uncomfortably. How good would it be to see Sunny? He hadn’t had his circuits stimulated since that last visit to the Ark. The need for a good overload had been building steadily over the last few days – and there seemed no chance whatsoever of Starscream helping him out there.

//I’ll talk to Warp,// he muttered.

…………..

But as soon as they stepped out of the elevator to the undersea base, they were confronted with the solid form of Soundwave. Too late, Starscream suppressed the feelings of desire that had started to bubble at the thought of soon being with Red Alert again so soon.

The telepath’s optics flickered knowingly. ‘ _Megatron desires your presence._ ’ _  
_

Unfortunately, one just did not tell Soundwave to tell Megatron to _go to hell._ “Tell him I’m busy,” Starscream snapped. “I will be, as it happens. Tell him I am exhausted from cleaning up his mess, and will need to rest so as to conserve my Cybertronium reserves.”

_‘Megatron – is unconscious_ .’

Starscream really didn’t ‘get’ Soundwave sometimes. “Well what is the point in seeing him then?” he screeched. “It would seem to have the hallmarks of a complete waste of time!”

He noticed, with annoyance, that various Decepticons had appeared. They hovered in the corridor behind Soundwave. He glimpsed Frenzy’s smirk, Ravage’s amused interest and Bonecrusher with his arms firmly folded. _Always they come out of the metalwork,_ he thought. _Can I do nothing without them showing up?_ _  
_

A large blue arm was steering him to one side. // _Contact – advisable_.// Soundwave intoned. // _Megatron – mental state will be more stable - knowing you are around_.//

//Don’t be ridiculous!// Starscream almost laughed. //If he senses anything it'll be paranoia about what I’ll do while he’s out of it. Well it may interest you to know, Soundwave, that I have no particular desire to tip him off his mighty throne today…//

Soundwave took hold of his wrist; not tightly, but enough to convey that a failure to provide his attention would not be a good idea.

// _Your intentions – known to me. Advise – you  reassure Megatron_.// His grip tightened. // _I will assume command, in his absence_.//

“Get off me!” Starscream shook off the hand. An urge swept through him to rapid-arm his null ray canon and blast the blue upstart into the wall. _Assuming command_. Had he no respect for the _rightful_ leader in Megatron’s absence?

But uncomfortable sensations ran through his circuits. What else did Soundwave know?  Was it not perhaps a good idea to just go along with him, whatever warped ambition was in his weird mind? Yes – besides, had Starscream not been _wanting_ to get out of here as soon as possible?

Images of Red Alert crept back in, beckoning, near painful in their intensity. Meanwhile the audience lingered, far too interested for Starscream’s liking. Primus, they were all so – _creepy…_ _  
_

That decided it. He was darned if they would get a display today.   

// _Your movements – will not be disclosed_ ,// Soundwave was watching him closely. // _And you may keep your Cybertronium stash…_ //

_So he knew about that, too_ . Of course he knew! He was Soundwave, wasn’t he? He was infused with an infuriating talent for knowing everything.

//Provided I see Megatron?//

// _Affirmative_.//

_All I have to do is look at the piece of pit_ , Starscream thought. _I’ll say a few soothing words, and then I can be out of this dump_.

“Very well, Soundwave…” he stared at the others triumphantly. “Take me to him.”

………

A little later, Starscream bounced along the corridor to Skywarp’s quarters, immensely happy again. This really had turned out better than he could have even imagined. There was no need to avoid Megatron, no need to try and keep his thoughts from Soundwave – in fact the defacto commander had _approved_ of his actions, given him total leave of absence.

If Megatron questioned things later, Starscream would simply point out the folly in allowing Soundwave command, and avert to his ineffectiveness in retaining various Decepticons within the base. He could easily deny any further allegations as faulty telepathic function induced by an idiotic over infusion of power.

Well – maybe. Starscream suppressed other feelings of well programmed discomfort. Unfortunately, Megatron would not be incapacitated indefinitely. Undoubtedly Shockwave would be busy on Cybertron right now, accessing the secret reserves of Cybertronium and figuring a way to get it down to Earth. And when Megatron did come around…

But it would take a while. More than enough time to get to the Ark and spend some quality time with the new light of his life; because surely the Autobots would mostly be out to it too?

_Including him, if I don’t get the Cybertronium there soon._ The thought of Red Alert, alone and ill, set off unexpected reverberations of concern and protection, almost overwhelming in the force of their sudden appearance. With a new sense of urgency, Starscream hurried the rest of the distance and pushed open the door.

 

An argument was clearly in progress. “He ain’t gettin’ it,” Skywarp was snarling at Thundercracker.  “I mean – what kind of plan is it?” he turned as Starscream entered. “Oh – well whaddya know! Here’s lovermech himself!”

His hands went on to his hips. “I think it stinks!” he fronted up to Starscream. “I mean – since when did you and _him…”_ he jerked his head towards Thundercracker, “go off without me? I’ve a good mind to go down and tell Soundwave exactly what’s going on.”

Suppressing an urge to slap him, Starscream took a deep intake. “Soundwave knows,” he said calmly. “Now - I’m not asking for your PCR, Skywarp, I’m _ordering_ you to give it to me.”

“Oh yeah? Well what if I don’t wanna give it to you? You’re not exactly a dab hand at teleporting, Starscream. Last time you tried it you ended up in medbay with Severe Equilibrium Disturbance Syndrome.”

Why did he have to go and remind Starscream of that? “Well I want it!”  he snapped. 

“Well get it off me then!”

He glared defiantly at Starscream before smiling, sardonically. “Yeah - we could have one hell of a lot of fun if you did that. Except that – oh no, you only touch me when it suits you, don’t you Starscream? When there’s no Autobots around to satisfy your little fetishes.”

“Primus!” Starscream’s hand balled to a fist. He slammed it down on the nearby console with a loud crash, regretting that Skywarp wasn’t lying on it. Why did this have to be so darned _difficult?_

“Uh - Warp…” Thundercracker had his arm around the purple Seeker and was steering him around so their backs were to Starscream. They were talking on comm, so he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He hoped Skywarp was getting threatened with a slow and terrible de-functioning. if he didn't comply.

The discussion went on. Starscream seethed with impatience.

After what seemed an eternity, they turned around. “You know I’m not happy about this..." Thundercracker didn’t _look_ happy. But yeah – if you’ll give us the PCR, things’ll be cool.”

“As it happens, I’ve got my own business to attend to!”  Skywarp was smiling conspiratorially. “We’ll all leave here and when we get to the mainland you can have my _device_ \- provided you don’t annoy me on the way.”

Oh how wonderful Skywarp would look smashed into the wall. “Fine!” Starscream snapped. “So what are we waiting for?”

…………

A little later, they stood on the beach off the coast of Oregon as Skywarp transferred his PCR to Thundercracker. “It’s still him that’s getting it not you!” the purple Seeker declared, triumphantly. “And if you end up with half of yourself here and the other half in hyperspace, don’t blame me!”

Starscream shivered. The sky was clouding over, and in the distance, thunder rolled. This whole thing seemed risky now – dangerously so. Aside from the dreaded teleport – _what_ would be the situation at the Ark? Why had he not thought of that before? Would a posse be waiting, as in that sewer?

And yet, Starscream’s spark burned agonizingly. An ever increasing _pull_ which made _not going through with this_ increasingly impossible. He _must_ get to the Ark.

Yes – he _must_. And it would be all right. In sudden need to hear the Autobot’s voice, he had commed Red Alert on the way here. There had been no reply, and he’d had his first fit of real panic; and he had done it - _that thing_ he’d said he would never do again. He’d commed Skyfire.

Only because of this situation, in which the need to hear Skyfire’s soothing voice was suddenly almost as great as the need to know about Red. He’d known he could hardly, of course, tell Skyfire he was going to the Ark, or why. But he could find out the situation there – yes – that was surely better than being blasted as soon as they materialized.

//Red Alert is all right if that’s what you are concerned about,// the shuttle had said, leaving Starscream flabbergasted, lost for words. //I have him with me. Being in no need of Cybertronium myself, I will not be incapacitated and will look after him.//

//You know about – _us?//_  

//Indeed. And I approve. I assisted him in getting up the courage to comm you.//

//That was hardly your business, Skyfire!// He’d known he shouldn’t snap, but really! Even after all this time, could his old mentor not resist the urge to control things? He was worse than Megatron in some ways.

And it had also been infuriating that despite the passage of time, the shuttle knew him so well, didn't 'react,' had such a _gentle_ way of calming him down. //It is all right, Starscream,// he’d said softly. //If Red Alert had not sought my friendship, then things would not be as they are. And that is _all_ it is too, in case that concerns you. A friendship.//

Starscream chad not been able to help but warm to his old mentor. At least he could be trusted when it came to – that kind of thing. His spark had broken out in an ache of longing again.  //Is Red – all right?// he’d whispered.

//Yes – just a little weak. He is temporarily offline. The other Autobots are mainly in the control room, and incapacitated. He preferred to be here.//

//I’ve got some Cybertronium// Starscream had not been able keep the tremor from his voice. //I’m coming in. teleporting – as it happens.// 

//Then I suggest you come here and not the Ark. I’m not sure that Red had time to disable the monitors and they have various devices to prevent intruders. Besides which, Starscream…// a tinge of amusement had crept in, //whilst I am no Autobot as such, I do have a duty to stop you running amok whilst my kind benefactors are all in a state of unconsciousness.//

//Yeah well I won’t be doing anything like that - please give me the coordinates...

Now, Starscream reflected as Skywarp finally handed over the PCR, the _kind benefactors_ part kind of made it tempting. So sycophantically accepting, still was Skyfire!  Still, he thought of Skyfire’s hangar - his no doubt _very comfortable_ hangar, full of warmth and niceties.

Thunder echoed distantly again, and a few drops of rain began to ping from Starscream’s armour. He shuddered at the thought of the teleport the _void between_. Sanctuary seemed never more appealing.

//Starscream?// The shuttle’s voice gently intoned as his comm cut in unexpectedly again. //Forgot to say - I’ll fix up any ill effects from the teleport, I have not forgotten your aversion to the practice.//

 Starscream already wanted to hug him.

 …….

 “OK – so long guys…!”

With unnecessary flourish, Skywarp transformed. He took off and sped away, fast becoming a speck in the darkening sky. Starscream’s anxiety returned as Thundercracker clicked the PCR into his arm and began the installment. “I take it he’s off to do the business with Sideswipe?” he snapped irritably in an attempt to distract himself.

For at least that was something. Yes, he should focus on the prospect of a pacified Skywarp – one who he did not want to blast out of the sky for his smug impudence in treating Starscream like a complete moron, all because of his _pique_ in not getting fragged again.

But Thundercracker looked unhappy. “No…” he muttered, gazing after him. “He’s got – a new love interest. One that concerns me greatly. I’m really glad we’re standing here, Starscream, but with you an’ him and what happened? I feel I’ve encouraged it.  Now I don’t know what to do about it.”

Starscream could hardly believe it. Just _how_ much more complicated could this get? “Well now’s hardly the time and place,” he snapped. “Just get on with installing that thing!”

Yet as Thundercracker finished the operation, he could not help but asking “What love interest?” Not that he cared. So long as they got this darned teleport over with and he had Red Alert in his arms again, Skywarp could be screwing Optimus Prime himself.

Thundercracker sighed. “I promised not to tell you in return for the PC - but I figure you oughtta know. It’s – it’s Mirage.”

The red light pinged on Thundercracker’s arm then. “OK download complete,” he said. “Hang on to me - somewhere. Let’s go…”

And it was perhaps not so bad that this was the 'news' _._ _Mirage? "_ Skywarp's getting it on with _him?"_ _  
_

_Nah_ – he thought. _In_ _your dreams, smart aft. Cos even if that stuck up aft is interested, which I doubt, he's gonna be sorry he ever looked your way._ The thought almost made up for earlier.

As the rain began to fall in earnest and he grasped Thundercracker's wings, the air already shimmering with the chaos of transport initiation, Starscream began to laugh....

At least that took the edge off the _void between_ and the ache in his spark. As long as it was over - quickly.


	11. Red Alert: What I need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red Alert returns to the Ark to await Starscream's arrival. But it isn't plain sailing.
> 
> *Warnings* this chapter for angst, fluff, great sappiness, plug and play sex and medical 'intravenous' injection.

The Ark is in chaos. Mechs stagger around, falling into walls and each other. The exhilaration from my recent encounter and still tingling circuits are dulled somewhat as I make my way as swiftly as I am able towards Optimus Prime’s office. When I get as far as medbay, a whole mob fills the corridor, jostling outside the door.

 

Many voices are in the air: “I was first - my need is greater - my arms aren’t working - never mind your arms, what about my…”

The door whooshes open. But it’s not the stern figure of Ratchet that one might have expected – it’s Hoist. “Quiet, now,” he waves them down, in that soothing tone that he’s good at but at which Ratchet is absolutely hopeless.

The clamour dies down. “Ratchet is not well himself,” Hoist explains. “We are attempting to procure more Cybertronium and we have prepared a sedative that will assist with the tolerance of the deficiency while it lasts. But I’m afraid you can’t stay here. Optimus’ orders are for us all to go to the Ark’s main control room, where we can be close together whilst Red Alert secures our base…”

Mutterings break out again – clearly this is not good news. I wonder where Inferno is and decide I don’t really want to know, and I slink away before anyone can look at me. Thank Primus they’re not expecting me in the control room.

........

Optimus looks grey and exhausted. “I have dispatched Spike and Carly to Cybertron, their mission being to procure all available Cybertronium,” he rasps. “Prowl and Jazz are down, as are Ratchet and Ironhide. They are already in the control room, and I will not be far behind them.”

He turns stiffly to the other two present besides myself. “Mirage? I well know that your superior alloys will remain unaffected…” Mirage smiles, not unpleasantly, but it makes me uneasy just the same. Not that Mirage has ever been anything to me but extremely pleasant. The mech is just – unnerving.

“…that leaves you, Smokescreen and …” he nods at me, “Red Alert. I want you both to secure the Ark with maximum device deployment. Automatic weapons activation, sentry monitors, tunnel drones - I’m leaving it all in your capable hands, Red. I know your efforts will be exemplary.”

The others appear to have no argument with this. It’s amazing how fast I appear to have regained my reputation. “You two will then make your way to the control room and Mirage will take over until Spike and Carly return. Am I understood?”

We nod. But I swallow hard, a raging conflict swelling within. My sense of purpose and need to do my duty – my Autobot duty – resonate strongly within me. Yet the need to see Starscream is so intense that already I am thinking _how I can leave a back entrance unmonitored for him to get in..?_

And how do I organize _that_ with Mirage around? My inner turmoil turns to nausea.  I must stay functional as long as possible. And wait for Starscream to call me. So long as he calls me. When will he call me? He _must_ call me.  He _hates_ tunnel drones. If he comes face to face with one…

“Red Alert?” They are all looking at me. Prime's intakes rasp unhealthily.

“No problem!” I straighten to attention. “My symptoms seem to be minimal for now. I will take advantage of that fact before I proceed to the control room.” Although now, even as I speak, I am starting to feel dizzy. An uncomfortable ache is spreading through my systems – and it isn’t to do with Starscream or Mirage.

Prime nods, but Mirage and Smokescreen both smile and the nausea rises again. Maybe it’s all too risky. Yes – it is – both from the point of view of risk to Starscream and having him here – I mean – _I’m about to_ _let a Decepticon on to the Ark_. And when everyone’s _disabled?_ What sort of an Autobot does _that?”_

But no – I _have_ to see him. My _spark_ needs for me to see him - and it's winning the day.

And he’s not coming here to destroy them, is he? No  – he’s coming to be with me.

We are dismissed. Mirage has already sauntered off, but Smokescreen pulls me to one side. “Er – I’m gonna have to give the old _assistance_  a miss, buddy,” he smiles apologetically. “I - uh - ain’t actually feeling the best…”

He looks around. “Look – I won’t be going to the control room, either. Gonna stay in my quarters. They’re – uh - near the south entrance, I’ll hear any comings or goings. If you could turn off the cameras - that’d be good tho’ Red…” he smiles lopsidedly, “I kinda don’t like folks seeing me when I’m ill.”

I know this is nonsense. He’s off to get drunk or – do Primus knows what. But Smokey has that way about him that you just say ‘yes’ even though you know it’s a load of scrap. Besides which - it suits my purposes just fine. _One gone, one to go…_

But Mirage is another matter…

I nod my approval, then hurry on to my office, my sanctuary; but I’m really beginning to feel the worse for wear now. One leg seems not to want to work and I’m limping, and it’s a real effort to coordinate the rest of my body.  

Mirage. _Where did he go?_ Starscream. _Why doesn’t he call?_ Half way there, I can stand it no longer. I call the object of my desires.

But the comm rings out. Starscream must still be on the Nemesis. _Why is he still there?_ Maybe he won’t even _leave_ the Nemesis? I give it one more go before snapping off the connection in frustration. Oh Primus…

“Red?” the voice startles me. The way Mirage just _appears_ like that – no wonder the mech freaks me out. “No need to worry old chap,” he's saying – as though nothing in the universe were amiss. “I’m going out for a while. Got a little – _investigating_ to do. Just make it all as Prime said, and I’ll find a way in later.”

Mirage is off too? Shameful! All these good Autobots deserting their post, leaving me to do it all! Typical…

But hey – what am I thinking? Right now it’s great!

I set myself to my duties. By the time I’ve finished, both the control room and any approach to it are impenetrable, and there’s only one small back entrance to the Ark left unarmed. I dither, as _that part_ of my programming reminds me once again that _I can’t possibly do this_. Then I think of what Mirage said, and – well – this is perfect!

But no - the unarmed entrance is arming anyway! The automatic sequence transfer, which I installed to safeguard against single security point failure, has shut it down. Like sentinels of doom, the sentry monitors are moving into place.

My own invention; spawn of my own paranoia. Brilliant! There’s no way on and off the Ark.

_Oh Primus_. If Starscream tries to get in he’ll be annihilated. And that sends me into such a state that I burst out of my office and storm haphazardly in the direction of the entrance in question, half hopping as I drag my malfunctioning leg.  I will set the sentry manually.

Urgency screams up inside me. I make it to the entrance, and thank Primus – I manage to get the sentry offline. But only just; for there’s a noise, and now it's Sunstreaker who suddenly appears, striding up the corridor, apparently completely all right.

He sees me and makes a beeline – as though he has found what he’s been looking for. Next, a strong yellow hand grabs my shoulder, pinning me firmly against the wall.

“What are you doing?” I cry, trying to struggle free. As if I need _this_ right now!

“A word,” he growls. “If I let you go, you don’t skitter off. OK?”

“I do have a _job_ to do…” _But anything to appease him,_ I think. I can hardly intake, for pits sake.

He releases me. “What’s happening?” he growls. “Have you turned off the Decepticon Detection System or what?”

“Of course not! That happens to be part of general protocol. Now if you don’t mind…”

“That is just so dumb!” My distant relation throws up his hands. “How in pit’s name are Thunder and Starscream supposed to teleport in here?”

I‘m speechless. They’re _both_ coming here? Well – that’s scandalous. It’s dangerous! I should put a stop to it right now. But it’s – _wonderful_ ; so wonderful that I can’t stop the sudden surge of heat through my core and the thrumming of energon in my conduits. So _that’s_ how Thundercracker gets in - it explains a lot. And this time Starscream’s coming too...

My pump races, and I lean against the wall, my hand going to my chest as I hastily inject coolant.

Sunstreaker regards me like some tiresome mechalescent. “I thought only Skywarp could do that,” I stammer, struggling to digest the enormity of this.

“Well yeah! But he ain’t the only one, is he? But the hell with that -” he glares at me, hands on his hips. “ _Are_ you gonna disable the DDS?”

I still can’t think straight.  “You – _know_ about me and Starscream?” I say weakly.

“Of course I know! Hasn’t that idiot told you _anything?_  I tried pinging Thunder a short time ago to see when they were leaving but they’re out of range. Dunno when they’re gonna get here – but Red – _watch my mouth_ …” he points to his lips, “the D-D-S?”

Oh Primus - I didn’t even give it a thought. And that _was_ dumb, because even if Starscream had been just _walking_ in, the detectors would still have picked him up, wouldn’t they?

I despair. I suck at this! Will Autobot dutifulness programming do anything to thwart the desperate needs of my spark?

“We must disable it now,” I cry. “Quick – back to my office!”

“Right!” he’s beside me, and when my leg gives way, he seizes me by the elbow and hold me up as we clank purposefully along; and it comes to me that Sunstreaker _is_ my relation, and he’s kind of in the same boat as me, and that’s pretty cool – if only he wouldn’t be so _darned intimidating._

We’re back in my office. But now my systems are all going wrong, and everything aches and feels like it’s about to freeze up, and my head has started to throb, and my vision is blurring. I can hardly see the keyboard, and I _just plain can’t remember_ where the DDS switch is...

“Do it!” Sunstreaker snaps. But I dither, my hands hovering and now my audios are fading too and my fingers have gone all stiff, and even if I could see what I’m doing, I don’t think I can do it.

“Hurry!”

“I’m trying!” I wail.  

Oh Primus, why is this so hard? I’ve done it tens of thousands of times! Now Thundercracker and Starscream are gonna be here any minute and they’ll die an awful death, and then later Sunstreaker and the Decepticons will all finish me off and it won’t matter because my spark will be broken forever anyway…oh forgive me Starscream...

And then just as I think either he's going to blow a gasket or I’m going to seize in panic-stasis, my comm goes off. //Red Alert? I’ve been so worried. Are you all right?”//

Oh by Sigma – that nearly _puts_ me into stasis. But it’s not Starscream. It’s Skyfire – and right now, that’s even better.   

//Skyfire!// I wail. //Help me. I’m fading fast. I can’t turn off the DDS and Sunstreaker…//

//I already told him to get himself and you over here// Skyfire sighs. //I despair of him sometimes. He never listens.//

_They’re friends too?_ Today is full of so many surprises that I can’t take them all in.

Evidently Skyfire talks to my distant relation, because next thing I know, I’m picked up and hoisted over a large yellow shoulder. A tyre squishes against my face. “But the DDS…” I protest.

“Forget it!” Sunstreaker growls, banging out of the office and starting furiously towards the entrance we just came from. “It’ll be useful if any other scumbags try an’ force their way in. ‘Cos don’t go thinking I’m a general Decepticon fan, Red. Most of them? I wouldn’t give ‘em the smoke outta my exhaust pipe…”

And now I really am the worse for wear, and I can’t see at all, and the universe spins around me as Sunstreaker charges along. I barely register that we’re outside, and that spots of rain are pinging off my armour.  I have one last try at comming Starscream, but even my comm is out of action now.

“Oh Primus!” I wail. “I  hope you and Skyfire know what you’re doing…”

But he only sighs, as though I were a sparkling that had asked him if he can remember how to transform.

........

Some time has passed. I know this, because even though just about every system has gone to hell, my chronometer still works.   

I’m in a large – a very large – berth. And I have vague memories of gentle hands laying me down on it and of Sunstreaker complaining in the background, and of a soothing voice telling him to be quiet in a very nice way , and him shutting up – and then everything went blank.

My audios seem to have regained some functionality too, as I can hear Skyfire now. His voice sounds, along with others, as a commotion seems to be happening in the next door room. There’s a series of _cathunks_ and bangs as with somebody lurching around; more voices and exclamations are followed by a sound like somebody – purging?

“Oh great!” I hear Sunstreaker proclaim. “I told you not to bring him. I hope that carpet wasn’t _important,_ Skyfire…”

“Shut up, Sunny…” That voice; that’s - _Thundercracker._ “He doesn’t get as much practice as I do. He’ll be fine. Hey Star – better out than in…” More purging and splattering sounds.

“Indeed…” Skyfire’s voice resonates clearly, with the usual soothing calmness. He sounds amused, if anything. “Here – use this, Starscream - you know how this is; it will pass…” and there’s a loud clank, as of something large and metal being placed on the floor, and more retching sounds - except it sounds as though nothing actually comes up, this time.

I despair. Part of me is thinking: _he’s here!_ He’s come to see me; and despite being so utterly fragged, I positively dance inside; but – there’s something wrong with him..?

“We used to go through this most times in close proximity jumps,” Skyfire is saying. “Strange – he was all right in deep space - very adept at warp gate transfers…”

I recall now - Starscream teleported. And it’s - _affected_ him? How I sympathize! I _always_ get sick on the spacebridge. I’m seized with an overwhelming urge to go to him, to tell him just how much I appreciate him putting himself through this, to make it all right, to hold him tightly - oh so tightly and lovingly. But I can’t even online my optics, let alone move. I try and call out, but not even a muffled moan escape my vocaliser.

“Stop fraggin’ giving me a hard time and get Red some Cybertronium…”

Starscream speaks! And he sounds a bit better _.  He said my name -_ rivers of warm tingles cascade through my spark, and it glows hotly; even though I’m totally done for in just about every other way.

He’s here; and there’s one thing I know for sure now - I _do_ love him. Madly.

“You hear what he said? Get the Cybertronium…” Sunstreaker again.

“When Red’s had his!” My beloved snaps. “Don’t push me, Sunstreaker! You know how I feel about this _arrangement_...” but then he’s spluttering and purging again - my poor Seeker!

“Right yeah – as if I could forget...”

“Sunny - _shut up!”_ Thundercracker again _. “_ Skyfire – it’s in his arm compartment . Here- oh pit, now _I’m_ feeling dizzy…”

“It’s all right - I’ll get this into Red…” Skyfire – the voice of sweet reason. “Sunstreaker ? You have some and sit yourself down – you’re looking pale. Thundercracker – here’s some for you. Are you all right to clean Starscream up and bring him in? He can lie beside Red and I’ll close off the berth area…”

The words are like music. “He’s going to be beside me…”

I’m aware of the door opening, and I’m suddenly dizzy again, and can’t get my bearings. No! I don’t want to fade out again – not now Starscream’s here. But I can’t move, and the sounds in my audios are dimming once more…

Panic grips me like a vice – but then Skyfire’s touch is that of a divine being, the warm liquid a promise of sweet relief as he injects it into my arm conduit.

........

The next time I awaken, I can hear the rain pattering loudly on the tin roof, clear as the bells of Iacon. Thunder rolls loudly, and I panic briefly, wondering where I am, before it registers – I can see and hear again, and I can move!

Oh yes, and as systems ping and pop online, I’m weak – but I am feeling _sooo_ much better. And as the hiss and sigh of intakes reaches my audios and the sweet scent of jet fuel fills the air, it takes no time to register something else – I’m not alone in the berth.

I turn over, just as a bright flash of light illuminates the surroundings – and for a brief moment I see Starscream lying beside me, his magnificent frame outlined in vivid relief, wings folded back. His beautiful face is like that of some heavenly being, so peaceful he looks, with his hand tucked under his cheek.

The surge through my spark makes my intakes freeze, and for a moment I can’t move. I stare into the darkness after the dazzling light subsides. Thunder cracks loudly as the rain comes down harder, and I switch to infra-red, needing that vision again, needing to believe that this divine presence with such impossible beauty is real.

He _is_ real, isn’t he? I reach out and touch his cheek, the feel of smooth Vossian metal sending tremors through every circuit, my spark burning like molten metal. “Starscream…” I whisper, hardly daring to utter his name in case at the very mention he will turn to a phantasm and vanish into dust.

He stirs, his optics glowing dully. “Red Alert…?” his voice is faint and raspy, as though it comes from far away.

I can’t take my hand from his face; or get over the fact that he’s here. And my systems are functioning better by the click - he came here and he saved me. And somehow Skyfire sorted it that he didn’t go into the Ark, and he didn’t die a terrifying death by tunnel drone. Rain pelts on the roof like a volley from a thousand high powered rifles, but we're both safe in here. “Are you all right?” I whisper.

“Mmmmnn …” he murmurs. “Better now you’re better…”

_Oh my beloved_. My spark flares like a sun. And then I can’t stop myself, I have to be close to him – very close. As the lightning floods the room again, I’m moving across the berth to get next to him, and he’s shifting on to his back. He raises an arm to allow me in.

I twine myself around him, snuggling in, and he pulls me close, wrapping his arms around me, his lips on my helm. The scent of clean washed metal and jet fuel and the essence of _him_ fills my senses, and I’m tired again but _oh so happy_ \- this has to be the greatest moment of my life. Thunder rolls and now the wind moans and the nearby pines rustle loudly, as though approving our starstruck union.

“I love you,” I murmur.

“Oh Red,” he laughs faintly. “I’m too weak to do anything – had to teleport – still low on Cybertronium – can’t do much… sorry…want to…”

I want to as well. _Have to_ – somehow – have to show him, infuse him with how I feel. “Sshhh…” I say, my lips on his cockpit, even as my fingers are wandering, feeling for his port and finding it;  because _oh yes_ – I know exactly where that is, I don’t even have to question. It slides open at my touch, and my own port is already open and more than ready…

I pull out his connector and plug it in to my port, and then do the same with my own cable. As I make the last connection, I'm overwhelmed with the strength of my love for him; sudden charge engulfs me and my EM field flares, wildly. Starscream shudders. He shifts and moans, as his own field responds, energy flooding over and through both of us, a simple show of sparkfelt and mutual adoration.

It washes through my systems, enough for now to bathe them in sweet satiation; and then I’m tired again, a glorious mixture of drowsiness and lust that flows through both of us with the promise of slow, sleepy pleasure. My feeble excuse for a firewall collapses altogether. “Need to feel you…” I curl into him again.

He pulls me to him once more, and our hands find each others' and clasp, tightly, like they did at the airport, and it seems suddenly like no time passed between then and now. And then there’s nothing but Starscream, the storm rumbling its distant approval. As the thunder fades, we both slowly pulse energy, flowing in and out of each other, merging as though whatever we each had at first now belongs to us both.

_How long have we got…_ he communicates before we enter a realm where there’s only semi awareness of the outside world.

_I don’t know_. I suppose I should find this out – but right now I don’t even care. I don’t want anything to disturb this longed for time, this thing we both so much need. I’ll just trust that if Spike gets back with the Cybertronium, Skyfire will keep us safe.

_Whatever happens – don’t leave me, Red._

I hug him tightly in every way I can. _I won’t._

_Ever._

_~~~~_

_TBC_


	12. Starscream: Old Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and Red Alert enjoy their time during their respective factions' incapacitation. Meanwhile, the arrival of a visitor causes Starscream some consternation.
> 
> *Warnings this chapter* for angst, fluff and explicit sticky sex. Mention of robot 'reproduction' - but rest assured, this is not about to be a mechpreg fic. Not this one!

**Same day: Cybertron**

Despite the jump-gate coordination achieved in establishing the spacebridge and other channels of communication to Earth, it was far from perfect. A high pitched whine sounded amid the transmission as Shockwave put in the call to his age old colleague, guardian of Cybertron and once esteemed Senator for the North.

He got through at least, however. //Shockwave?//

//Soundwave. Are you fully functional?//

//Affirmative, Shockwave. // _His usual emotionless self_. Shockwave was relieved. He so disliked change.

//Good.// Shockwave said. // My drones are procuring a more than adequate supply of Cybertronium. There are some dinobots here, and some humans, but they are of little consequence. Very soon, I will be preparing the space bridge to…//

//…about that, Shockwave -// There was a pause.  //A delay would be preferable. Is this achievable?//

//Well of course, Soundwave. But – might I ask _why?//_

A huge sigh. //Situation here – peaceful.  State of affairs - rare. Megatron - out of service.  Seekers - gone. Reflector and my cassettes - incapacitated. Not being bothered by them all is – most pleasant.//

//I see, yes indeed, Soundwave.// Oh yes, Shockwave really _did_ see. There were times that he relished his solitary post on Cybertron with a fondness he could never have disclosed. // I will do what I can, but…//

//There is more. // The ex-senator cut in again. //All Seekers currently attend upon our…// his voice dropped a semitone, //hoped for liaisons.//

Shockwave digested that. It pleased him. //Why - that’s splendid news Soundwave! What – even Mirage?//

//Skywarp is – quite taken with him. Vice versa – affirmative.//

//Well I’ll be darned!// Shockwave now could not take the delighted smile from his face.  I agree, they certainly need time to – cement – their affiliations.  An exciting day for the future of Cybertron, is it not Soundwave?//

//Indeed. Though success may depend upon their ability to...//

//Co-replicate – yes, I know Soundwave.// Shockwave pondered that one – as if he and Soundwave had not done so a thousand times before. He was not, in fact, so convinced. In the times to come, when Decepticon and Autobot movements could fade to near insignificance in the wake of threats far greater than those currently occupying their small corner of the galaxy, strong leaders would be the priority. A breaking of the hitherto Vossian inability to reproduce could be helpful – but not necessarily.

Shockwave had no wish to delve into the question of Cybertron’s future as led by mixed caste offspring right now. It was enough that all current relevant parties were –apparently – cooperative.

//So – Shockwave – delay –possible?//

 //It is. Though should the Autobot allies procure Cybertronium, I will need to make the shipment, Soundwave. The consequences of the activation of Optimus Prime and not Megatron would not be helpful at this point in time.//

//Appreciated, Shockwave. I will await further news.//

 

**Skyfire's hangar**

Pink filaments stained a cloud streaked sky as the first heralds of dawn crept through the small skylight in the hangar, illuminating the room with a thin pale light. Starscream stirred, delightfully aware of Red Alert curled against him, the soft intakes on his neck cords.

Fully recovered now, Starscream registered absolutely that he was, of course, essentially in an Autobot facility. And he should be a _great_ deal more concerned about it, he knew –

But the pleasure scintillating through the hardline connection made any thoughts but of Red seem trivial, even obsolete.

Dipping his head, Starscream mouthed at Red’s helm. Pulling his lover closer to him, he squeezed the white hand still clasped in his. Red murmured sleepily, a tide of appreciation flooding through the connection as he curled in tightly.

It was deliciously cosy – but also exciting.  In his semi -conscious state, Red was just on the outskirts of getting aroused again. It would not take much to set him off - and that fact was enough to set Starscream’s charge rising, to fill him with a rapid need to do a lot more than just lie there.

After all, this time needed to be made the most of…

He began to stroke Red’s back panels, allowing his fingers to play lightly into seams as he ran his hand up to Red’s shoulder tyre, then trailed his fingers down the arm that lay across him. Red murmured again. He continued, moving down to explore the finely crafted components of Red’s aft and thigh. Red squirmed, shifting so that Starscream’s hand could slide between his legs.

Red’s valve was already lubricated. A rush of charge went through Starscream. He slid a finger in  and Red shivered, the data coming through the connection turning to desire so intense that Starscream’s spark flared sharply. He marvelled again at the extent of the devotion, the depth of the – love.

Yes, it was that. And Starscream liked it. _Being loved_ was really quite nice after all.

The sparkflare had aroused Red thoroughly, and he was sitting up. His blue optics sparkled, filled with adoration as he straddled Starscream. There was no need for words – Red simply slid his crotch against Starscream’s now very well pressurized spike. Starscream’s hands settled on Red’s hips, pushing them up so he could guide himself in.

As Red settled on to him with a deeply contented sigh, data skittered to and fro, enhancing the need in an upward spiral. Starscream shivered, wondering  if entering Red would ever lose its appeal. “I hope we never get tired of doing this…” Red murmured, as though in understanding.

“Never…” but Starscream’s husky whisper was cut off as Red kissed him, raising his hips to unsheath Starscream’s spike and then sinking back down, his love of the depth with which he managed to get Starscream into him reflected in the hot passion of his kiss.

They kissed for a few moments, moving gently, not wishing to push the charge too high, every sense transmitting pleasure through their various points of contact. Then Red sat up, his hands going to Starscream’s chest-glass as he applied gentle pressure, an outflow of energy scattering over Starscream in little blue-white sparks as delight showed on his flushed white face.

Starscream responded, pleased he was able to control the returning burst and sending a few extra bolts through the connection for good measure. Then he clasped Red’s hands and, digging his heels down, pushed up with a groan of sheer unqualified pleasure.

Red was trembling. He would go off easily – oh so easily – if Starscream started thrusting now. The urge to do that rose with compelling force. Starscream held it off, squeezing Red’s hands as they held position. But as had become usual, need overcame him. With a giant sigh he pushed up hard, Red’s sudden cry making restraint all but impossible.

They could always do it again. And again, and again…

Starscream began to pump his hips, feeling the urge as before to flip Red over and fuck him hard, Seeker style. But this longer, slower ascent was rather nice…

It was decided, anyway, by the sudden parting of Red’s chest components – just a crack, but enough to shine bright blue light into Starscream’s face.  Unable to take his optics from the dazzling aura, he slowed, thrusting firmly but steadily up, feeling the heat in his own chest and letting the cockpit glass also slide just slightly open.

That was too much for Red. With a cry, the Autobot threw his head back. Starscream thrust hard several times, emitting his own sounds of immediate need as he also reached climax.

The overload washed through them in powerful, all engulfing pulses that seemed to last an eternity.  As the pulses went on, Red’s face glowed, radiant even through the brilliance of the sparklight. It was, perhaps, the most beautiful thing that Starscream had ever seen.

No need for words; no – none at all…

They stayed like that, panting with decreasing rigour, regarding each other as though each in worship.  Starscream almost whimpered at the sheer emotion that had accompanied the last stages of the release, the feelings he had for Red. Tears flecked the Autobot’s cheek . Starscream gently brushed them away, aware of his own spilling out. Red lay down on his chest, murmuring softly.  

_How long had it taken for things to get like this?_ Starscream did not even wish to answer that question, or address the implications. The very notion set uncomfortable rumblings in the Decepticon side of his programming.

He shut them out, concentrating instead on the Autobot’s love for him, of his own extraordinary feelings. Raising himself up, Red began to move again.

This time, Starscream had no hesitation in rolling them over, in pinning Red’s wrists as he plunged deeply into him. It was not until a few overloads later that their desire was satiated enough for them to relax, rather as they had before, but this time with Starscream settling on to Red’s shoulder, the Autobot gently stroking his wing.

And it was some time after that, by which time shafts of winter sunlight were basting the room with bright stripes of morning that Starscream became aware of the voices in the next room.

……….

It was Skyfire - and another. Starscream grimaced; he would recognize that upper caste drawl anywhere.

“No need for alarm, they’re AOK just inert,” Mirage was saying. “Same situation in the old Con camp. We’ve got a little while yet.”

Clearly, he was talking about the situation on the Ark. _But how does he know about the Nemesis…._ Starscream prickled with annoyance. His thoughts went back to earlier, to what Thundercracker had told him. _Skywarp has a new love interest..._

Unfortunately, Skywarp divulging information was far from out of the question.  Starscream well knew the effect that Alphas could have - especially that one with the smooth expensive panels, flaunted at every opportunity. For all his loyalty to the Cause, Skywarp was gullible; and he had seemed – well – somewhat peeved at Starscream.

Well the sooner Starscream ascertained exactly what Skywarp had said – and what the upper caste aft had told Skyfire – the better. Not that Mirage could seriously do damage on the Nemesis with Soundwave there, but still…

Gently, Starscream pulled out the connections, looking fondly upon his lover, saddened that Red stirred unhappily.

Starscream stroked him soothingly; then he sat up, straining his audios to hear more of the conversation outside. But the Alpha-would-be-Autobot had turned the volume infuriatingly low. Even words were not now discernible.

The removal of their intimate joining had, apparently, brought Red fully online. He was sitting up now too, tuning in not to Starscream, but to the conversation.  “Oh no – I’m supposed to be handing over to Mirage,” he whispered, his highly calibrated audios evidently admitting more than Starscream’s.

“And I have no idea what’s happening on the Ark. I’d better get over there, Starscream…” He was already scrambling off the berth.

It seemed that Red’s Autobot programming was most susceptible to kicking in at full force should the need arise – a fact that Starscream registered rather uncomfortably. He wanted to grab Red, pull him back and recommence what they’d just been doing for the last few hours. Instead he lay back down, connectors tingling uncomfortably, a raft of thoughts in his processor as splashing sounds came from the washrack.

The noises came to an end. Mirage’s voice wafted through once more. “Oh there’s no need to disturb Red and Star – seriously…”

_Primus - he knew!_ Had Skywarp told him? TC? Skyfire? Or had he been stalking around, maybe even – Starscream surged in anger – _been in here?_  Curse Skywarp for his damnable desires - and TC for such pathetic acquiescence. Starscream had half a mind to grab his canons, burst out there and give the Alphamech a nice piece of exactly what he thought…

Except, Starscream knew he wouldn’t be able to do that – any more than he had ever been able to do it, even before the war. Mirage was too quick, even for him.  Nor could he alter what Mirage had been, what he knew, what he might do…

Uncomfortable images from the past filled Starscream’s processor.  As always, they brought with them a shameful but unconquerable fear.

“You stay here,” Red said, emerging. He radiated afterglow and fresh polish, and a cheerfulness Starscream now did not feel. “I’ll deal with this.”

“No you won’t,” Starscream got up, surprised at the commanding tone that suddenly entered his own voice, noting the slight frown that crossed Red’s face. “Wait a few moments. I’m coming out there with you.”

……..

“Ah, here’s the star-crossed couple…” Seated on Skyfire’s couch, Mirage beamed in a way that made Starscream want to bash the look right off that finely chiselled, aquiline featured face. Instead, he glared at him, ruffling his wings in a way he hoped was intimidating as he and Red sat on the other couch.

Flames crackled in the fireplace nearby. Skyfire was nowhere to be seen.

“Hoist’s got it all under wraps," Mirage informed Red Alert – as though Starscream wasn’t there. “He’s just conscious enough to attend to the medical side of things. And as for you, Red? You did a splendid job. Leaving that little entrance was just the ticket…” he winked, “you must have been reading my mind.”

Starscream fumed inside. _The patronising aft._ Or worse – was there more to it than that? Such a thing had never even occurred to him – but they were both Autobots, after all. Of a sort.

// _He’s_ not a friend of yours I hope!// he snapped through the comm, as Mirage turned his attention to Skyfire, who had returned with a tray of drinks.

//Of course not! I hardly know him.// Red’s surprise was obvious.

//Well keep it that way!// Starscream snapped.

//Why are you being like this?// There was a note of that feistiness that Starscream had seen during their heated comm-call at the airport.  Starscream decided he rather liked it – although perhaps not at this precise moment.

//Because I’ve got _damned_ good reason…//  

But Starscream realized, then, that they were all looking at him, Mirage with an amused half smile. _The aft._ Starscream raised the glass Skyfire handed him. “Well, here we all seem to be,” he said sarcastically, forcing a smile. “Your good health, Mirage.”

‘’Charmed…” Mirage raised his glass at Starscream, bringing about another look of bewilderment from Red Alert. There was an awkward silence as they drank. Meanwhile there were scraping sounds as Skyfire stoked the fire. Putting down the poker, he disappeared outside again.

Red Alert broke the silence. “If it’s all the same, Mirage, I think I’ll go look round the Ark myself. You’re welcome to come with me.”

//I don’t know what this is about but what I have to do is strictly business// he told Starscream. // It won’t take long. //

“Certainly!” said the Alpha-mech. But Starscream was not about to let Red Alert out of his sight now. “I’ll come too!” he snapped, not even caring about the implications.

“ _Not on_ , I’m afraid old chap!” Mirage got up, a wry smile on his face. “Red really _did_ do a very good job – he even enabled a very efficient Decepticon Detector System. Don’t think you’d fancy getting gunned down by a sentry monitor, would you?”

Starscream was on his feet. Flaring his wings, he lunged forward. “You might think you’ve got the upper hand, with the Ark and your fancy systems just up there…” he gestured in the direction of the mountain. “But I’ll remind you it’s full of _inactive_ Autobots; and if you think you’re going anywhere near the Nemesis…”

“Oh come now, Starscream!” Mirage raised his hands, infuriatingly unperturbed. “You know the score. And why would I do that? You might have noticed that I gave Megatron quite a pasting at the airport. I’d have thought you’d have been happier to see me!”

Rage engulfed Starscream; he brushed off the white hand that appeared on his arm and jabbed a finger at Mirage. “One more thing - stay away from my wingmate…” he growled; but Skyfire returned then, carrying a pile of logs which he dumped on the hearth. He glanced at them, and frowned.

Starscream found himself sitting back down. It was surprising how much authority a shuttle could put across – even if that was, in part, due to sheer size.

“Now then,”  Skyfire joined them,  smiling firmly. “Mirage?  It’s been a pleasure…”   

Mirage nodded politely, the panels of his lithe form reflecting the dancing flames from the fire; evidently he had no problem understanding that his presence was no longer required. As he left the room, Starscream reflected that he was, at least, perceptive.

“I suggest you do a quick sweep,” Skyfire said kindly to Red, who – as Starscream now saw only too well – was trembling. “You should come straight back here. Starscream..?” Skyfire turned to him. “It’s been a long time. Perhaps we should talk?” And it wasn’t really a request.

Starscream was conscious that Red’s hand had slipped back into his. //You won’t really try and do something to the Ark, will you?//  the Autobot said shakily. //And you’ll stay here?//

His spark aching with sudden intensity, Starscream turned to his lover. He was consumed now with guilt. Pulling Red to him, he he kissed hiss helm, his lips lingering. Of course he was not going to try and damage the Ark – even if the range of protective measures and that Alpha-mech stalking unseen out there were not quite enough to stop him. There was no way he would jeopardize coming here again.

“I’ll be here,” he murmured, realising that despite what had just happened, departing this scene had not even occurred to him. Pulling back, he stroked Red’s cheek.  “It’s the past. Some things…” he trailed off, unable to summarise the enormity of his concerns about Mirage.  “I’ll explain – just don’t tell _him_ anything.”

“Starscream, really…” At least Red looked less stricken, now.  “What would I be telling him? I thought I was the paranoid one.”

“Perhaps we have that in common,” Starscream muttered. Then, noticing that Mirage had reappeared, he wrapped his arms around Red and kissed him passionately, aware that the Alpha-mech turned away. Good. He could forget about influencing Red. How convenient that Alpha’s always were made nicely uncomfortable by public displays of affection.

……..

“Well, Starscream. We speak at last.”

Starscream tore his gaze away from the door that Red Alert had just walked out of. _Skyfire_. Without other distractions, the fact that he’d fired on him rather than talked since his ‘rescue’ of the other mech rose, an unavoidable specter of inescapable communication. It left Starscream really not knowing what to say.   

He found himself not all that well disposed toward his old mentor too, though equally unsure of the reason. “Why?” he muttered. “Why all this _assistance?”_

Skyfire sat down, his expression gentle. “Because contra to what you think, I still care about you Starscream. I want you to be happy. It pained me to see you in a relationship with Megatron, and that is the main reason I would not join the Decepticons. Although perhaps…” he smiled slightly, “it is as well that Optimus Prime has not heard that explanation.”

Starscream grunted. He’d known as much, he surmised; known that the shuttle’s departure had not all been because of his display of temper at the arctic camp, in the face of Skyfire’s apparent ingratitude. “I can’t love you Skyfire,” he muttered. “Any more than I ever could. Not just because I’m a Decepticon, but because…”

He was a Decepticon, yes – and he might think it, but he still had trouble saying it…

“Because you love Red Alert.”

Starscream sighed. “Yes.”

Skyfire nodded. “This, I accept...” Picking up his drink, a smile crept on to his wise face. “Like I said, I want you to be happy. It pleases me to see you with one worthy - and capable of such a feeling at last.”

The light had dimmed again, and there came the soft patter of rain on the hangar roof. A sadness went through Starscream. It seemed a very long time suddenly since their days at the Academy, the faction Skyfire had chosen making for a deep and separating rift. _And was it not also that way with Red Alert?_

“I’m not joining the Autobots,” he said, feeling emotion well in his spark. “And I don’t think Red Alert will join the Decepticons. What now, Skyfire? I suppose TC’s been on long enough with Sunstreaker – they seem to have things in hand.” Yes – that was a comforting thought. He wondered where his wingmate and his golden lover had gone.

Skyfire laid a hand on his arm. “None of us know what the future will bring,” he said quietly. “Mirage and Skyfire are now in a similar predicament, although I think,” he smiled,” that one is rather more based on pleasure than love…”

Starscream felt himself darken, as any good feelings disappeared.  He shoved Skyfire’s hand away. “And I suppose from your ‘chats’ you think you know all about Mirage, and _approve_ of this liaison thoroughly!” he snapped. “Well it’s none of your business! I intend putting a stop to it…”

“As a matter of fact Mirage and I have not talked that much,” Skyfire said. “When we have, our conversations have mainly concerned my dear friend Blast Off, who appears to have ferried Mirage around on his commercial endeavours before the war. It is always good to find one has an old acquaintance in common.”

But that only made Starscream’s thoughts whir again – and not in a nice way at all. _Images of courts and interrogations, of sentences and screaming mechs; of fear_ – _oh yes, the fear …_

Picking up the remainder of his drink, Starscream sipped at it shakily.

Skyfire leaned forward. “I will be straight with you, Starscream. I have learned of certain events that occurred in my absence…” he lowered his voice – as though listening audios lurked not far away. “Like that you and one Commander Onslaught - I believe his name was - launched a rebellion against Megatron, early in the war.  Mirage financed it, I believe? I also know that Mirage turned Onslaught and Blast Off - and others - in to Megatron, in the hope that the Towers would be spared.”

Starscream grimaced, most unhappy, not at Skyfire’s knowledge, but at the bringing forth of these events, the memories of which he’d fought so hard to avoid.

Though he was surprised at the honesty of the account. He would have expected more bias from Mirage. “The Towers weren’t spared,” he said. “We totalled them - on Megatron’s orders. When I saw Mirage was here on Earth, I…” 

“You were afraid that Megatron would be appraised of your part in the rebellion, by way of punishment for the destruction?”

Starscream nodded, strangely comforted that Skyfire, after all this time, could still read him so well. “I have turned against Megatron many times, but in minor ways compared to that episode,” he said. “If he ever found out…” He felt deeply ill at the very notion.

“Ah – but Mirage could have told on you long ago, could he not?”  Skyfire said quietly. “But he didn’t.  Why would he suddenly do it now?”

“I don’t know. He just – might…” Starscream winced as his spark spasmed in sudden pain – and it was not all because of the implications of being put in some mind prison as had befallen Onslaught and the others; not about the terror, the perpetual disorientation that made teleporting seem tame. Not even the slow, lingering death. No – it was the thought of being separated from Red Alert – and what Red would do without him.

“It would break Red’s spark,” he muttered, suddenly missing the Autobot, and wanting him back in there so badly he almost commed him there and then – had he not known that this would surely set off the DDS. “Skyfire – tell Mirage not to do it,” he looked pleadingly at his old mentor.  “Not for me, but for…”

He brushed a tear away. Skyfire patted his hand – and this time Starscream did not push him away. “Mirage may have lost his home, but you lost your allies,” Skyfire said. “Your deference to Megatron was inevitable after that, was it not? Mirage has no love of Megatron himself. Perhaps he regards that - and the abusive situation into which you were swept - as punishment enough?”

Starscream nodded. He supposed that made sense. He was suddenly sad for his old comrades also – even though he had not thought about them for a long, long time.  

Skyfire was still looking at him. “I also think there are other reasons why you might be inclined not to dislike Mirage quite as much as you do, and should maybe - _trust_ \- him just a little.”

But Starscream shifted uneasily at that.  Skyfire always had been a little - naïve. Accepting that Mirage _may not_ orchestrate his demise was one thing. Liking and _trusting_ the aft was quite another.

“And why should I do that?”

“Because Mirage seems to know where Onslaught is,” Skyfire said calmly. “And he might just be willing to share that fact.”

 


End file.
